by Kylie Brant
She was coming up on Eggers from behind when she slowed. There was a huge trench dug around the man. Two feet wide. A foot deep. And it was lined, she noted sickly, with brush and branches. It was all too easy to imagine what Baltes had in mind.
He planned to surround Eggers with a ring of fire.
For a moment, horror at the thought held her motionless. Then she straightened enough to leap over the trench. Piles of discarded dirt were piled inside the circle. She stumbled over an abandoned shovel as she raced across the twelve-foot expanse of grass to where the solitary victim sat waiting for death.
“What the . . . Keep away from me!”
“Quiet,” she hissed at Eggers. “Stay still.” He was twisting in his chair, trying to see behind him. Risa had to set her weapon down to fumble with his bonds. She didn’t want to admit to the slight relief she felt when she no longer had to hold the gun.
“Hurry up! That fucker will be back any minute. Where are the others? Where’s McGuire?”
“Don’t worry,” she muttered. He was secured with duct tape, she realized with a sinking heart. And the most effective way to release him was with a knife to cut through it.
She didn’t have a knife. By touch alone she discovered that the tape trussed the man’s entire body to the chair. Even if she were able to free his hands, she couldn’t afford to expend the time necessary to loosen all of it.
Which meant she wouldn’t try. She reached out and tipped the chair toward her. Pulled.
“What the hell are you doing?” His whisper was harsh. Terrified. “Cut me loose!”
Risa bent to retrieve her weapon, but she had to holster it. She couldn’t drag Eggers to safety without both hands free. “Unless you happen to have a knife on you . . .” She pulled the chair with all her strength. Dragged it several feet before having to stop and rest for a moment. The man had to weigh one eighty. She pulled again. Moved him several more feet.
Then a shot rang out, kicking up dirt several yards away. She tipped the chair over in an attempt to make Eggers a less visible target and dropped to the ground, drawing her weapon with unconscious fluidity.
“Whoever is there, I’m giving you one chance to walk away. Leave him and save yourself.”
Risa strained to place the origin of the voice. It was coming from the brush on the opposite side of the clearing from the way she’d approached. “Baltes?” she called. “Philadelphia PD. You’re surrounded. Put your weapon down and come out with your arms raised.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, “Chandler?” The incredulous joy in that single word filled her with dread. “You’re not with the force anymore. But no one will ever know about that lie you just told. You’ll be dead by morning.” Another shot. This one closer. She rolled, her wet palms making her grip on her weapon slippery.
“We know about Lamont Fredericks,” she called, scanning the cover of brush and trees opposite her. “Eggers burned down Tory’s with Lamont in it. We know about your mother’s death. The foster homes. But you’ve left a string of bodies behind you. Darrell Cooper had nothing to do with this case. He was innocent. Killing him makes you as bad as Eggers.”
“Fuck that,” the detective screamed from his position on the ground. “Fredericks got what he deserved.”
“Cooper was a means to an end,” Baltes called out. His voice seemed to be coming several yards farther away from where it had last time. “No one was going to miss one more former foster kid after the system spit him out. This is your last chance, Chandler. I never wanted you to die.”
She saw a flash of movement. Aimed. One second stretched into another. It took every ounce of determination she had to finally squeeze the trigger.
Too late. She knew it even as the shot sounded. A quick little stab of fear arrowed through her. How much time had passed since she’d talked to Nate?
Not enough, she realized immediately. Her heart sank to the vicinity of her stomach. The only chance they had was for her to get beyond the fear. Beyond the past.
But if determination alone could accomplish that, Raiker wouldn’t have had to force her weapon on her again.
Belatedly, she answered the man. “You made a damn good attempt for someone not wanting me to die. You were scared, weren’t you? Scared of the sketches you saw on that pad you stole from my bedroom.”
“If you knew as much as you thought you did, I’d be in jail right now.”
She sited on the area the voice seemed to be coming from. Squeezed the trigger again. A moment passed. Had she hit him? The thought had the weapon trembling a bit in her hand.
“And you’re right. I want you dead almost as much as I do Eggers. McGuire I gave a pass to. Just pushed his sister to run to arrange a little distraction for him. But you . . . I don’t know what you are. How you drew those pictures. But you’ll die with Eggers. I’ve never had a twofer. I’m going to enjoy this one.”
A light blazed in the darkness. Came sailing through the air. Fell short of the trench Baltes was aiming for. And Risa recognized with sick fear that he meant to trap them both in the circle by surrounding them in fire.
“Shoot him! Shoot the little fucker now! Give me the gun. I’ll put a bullet between his eyes!” Eggers was screaming in fury and panic.
Risa tuned him out. Waited with bated breath for Baltes to try again. He’d have to get closer with the next try. And when he did, she was going to put a bullet in him. She chanted the mental vow over and over in her mind. Visualize it. Overcome the hesitation and the ghosts from the past. Make it happen.
Her heart was thundering inside her chest. Sounding in her ears. She didn’t have long to wait. The light was the first visual cue. The blaze cut through the darkness. Risa took a deep calming breath. Squeezed the trigger. Baltes’s cry brought no sense of triumph. Instead, she scrambled backward to reholster her weapon. Grabbed the back of the chair and start pulling again. She needed to get Eggers beyond the trench.
“Wait, wait!”
But Risa had already seen it. Baltes’s last torch had found its mark, landing in the trench. The wood inside had to have been treated with something. The fire leapt wildly, licking around the circle with a harrowing speed.
“I can’t cross that!” Eggers was screaming. “He sprayed me with that shit. My clothing is flammable.”
Risa wished that were the only danger here. But plumes of smoke were already rising from the fire. Clouding their vision. Breathing it in for too long would kill them before the flames had a chance to.
Swiftly she shrugged out of her jacket and used the sleeves to tie it around her nose and mouth like a mask. The fire was only halfway around the circle. They still had time to cross the unaffected area if she headed in a different direction.
Sound filled the air. A noise she couldn’t place. She started for the chair again, and saw coming through the smoke and haze a sight that filled her chest with ice. Baltes.
He was staggering crazily toward them, another lit torch in his hand. Her weapon was drawn before she had the conscious thought to do so. And shook only slightly when she brought it up. Fired.
He swayed like a piñata in a windstorm. Toppled in slow motion. His gun dropped to the ground.
And so did the torch.
He fell inside the trench, the lighted torch landing beside him. And even as she raced back to Eggers, the speeding flames cut off their escape route. The ring of fire was complete.
Baltes’s screams were hideous. They drowned out the deafening noise overhead. The shouts in the distance. Frantically, Risa raced to where she’d tripped over the shovel. The haze of smoke in the air made it difficult to see. It burned her eyes, and despite the makeshift mask, her lungs were raw. Scrambling on her hands and knees now, she searched wildly, relief sparking inside her when she found it.
The cries of the damned filled her ears. Baltes’s screeches had reached a high-pitched, animal-like sound. Eggers was shouting and cursing by turn, coughing spasmodically. Risa staggered to a pile of dirt. Used the shove
l to throw it back on the fire. Smother it. Without fuel, it’d cease to burn. At least in theory. Logic receded, instinct took over. Dig and throw. Dig and throw.
She blinked. Squinted. Her efforts were paying off slowly. Much too slowly. But a small portion of the flames were suffocated. She dropped the shovel. Staggered. If she could get to Eggers. Drag him across that flame-free expanse . . .
An alien-looking creature loomed in front of her, spit from the fire. Followed by a second one. Another dream, she thought foggily. Nothing made sense.
And then thought ceased as her knees buckled. Her senses receded rapidly as the ground came up to meet her.
Chapter 22
“You look like hell.”
Risa’s hand went to her hair self-consciously. Trust Raiker to offer the plain, unvarnished truth. She hadn’t caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, but she’d seen the towels after the nurse had cleaned her face and hands. The ends of her hair felt crispy, as if it’d break off at her touch.
“She looks,” Nate said grimly, with a dark glance in her direction, “like someone who needs to be in a hospital bed.”
“Trust me. They’re not all they’re cracked up to be.”
A nurse hovered outside the door of Adam’s room. Risa assumed it was because he had two visitors at once. But her boss’s condition had been upgraded to stable, and he was ready to be moved out of CCU. Paulie had told her, once he’d released her from a bone-crushing hug, that he was transferring Adam to George Washington University Hospital, where he had a nationally renowned specialist on hand to treat Adam.
“Give me a rundown.”
Before she could open her mouth, Nate interrupted. “I’ll talk. Save your voice.”
She wasn’t totally sorry. Her throat felt like she had razor blades lodged in it.
“Approximately twenty-five years ago a group of Philadelphia police officers formed a group they called the John Squad. Each member was known by a variation of ‘John’ and all culled a midlevel drug dealer from the mix. They offered protection in exchange for a slice of the profits. Refusal wasn’t an option. Since their group included a high-profile assistant DA at the time, they had a lot to offer.”
Risa raised her brows at him questioningly. “Eggers?” she rasped out the word.
Nate shook his head. “Eggers is still denying everything, much like when we hauled him in for that interview. But after the drive-by last night, we got a visit from a Detective Jim Gorenson. He’s seeking immunity. Didn’t get it but likely he’s hoping his cooperation will count with the jury. He gave us names. Dates. And a history. Tory’s was a hangout for the police group when they met. Apparently Lamont Fredericks was giving them some trouble. Threatened blackmail. Gorenson claims it was Eggers who set fire to the place, after making sure Fredericks was locked in the bedroom upstairs. The idea was to set an example for any of their other associates who might get similar ideas.”
And yet Eggers had been spared a similar death. There was a twisted irony in that, Risa thought.
“A couple others of the original group had retired and moved away, including the assistant DA. Once the members of the group started being victimized, Eggers reached out to the other two. Discovered each of them had been killed months earlier. A house fire and a fiery car accident.”
“Baltes was good at that.” He narrowed her a look and she subsided. Brought the bottled water that he’d bought her to her lips and drank.
For Raiker’s sake he explained, “The owner of the bar that burnt was Tory Baltes. She died a couple years later but her son ended up in foster care. Fredericks had been good to him, and the kid watched the man die from the sidewalk outside the place.”
“And so an obsession was born,” Raiker murmured.
Nate nodded. “Three years ago Baltes must have put his plan in motion. It’s looking like he faked his own death, switching identities with that victim. We’re tracking down the real Darrell Cooper.”
“They were in foster care together,” she managed. Just those few words had her throat raw.
“That would make sense. There was one more kid who saw the fire. Javon Emmons, Lamont’s younger half brother. He and Baltes were close as kids. Now we’re reaching into supposition, but I’m guessing Baltes showed up again, ran his idea for revenge by Emmons, who was only too happy to assist any way he could. It was he who got the car used for Cooper’s accident. And Gorenson claims Emmons also has connections to a chop shop. Big operation. We know from finding the victims’ former vehicles that someone was fairly adept at changing VIN numbers.”
Raiker sent Nate a pointed look. “You should have had someone on Eggers.”
“We did.” His retort was mild. “Maybe Baltes heard somehow what we planned. More likely he just expected it and was ready. The officer was killed in a drive-by shortly before Baltes snatched Eggers. We’ve already got the shooter and the occupants of the car. Chances are one of them will talk and implicate Emmons.” He paused for a moment before adding, almost as an afterthought, “I asked Christiansen about the symbolism of the badges left at the scene. He wasn’t sure, but he did recall the station houses having boxes of them back in the eighties. Officers kept them in their cars or pockets and handed them out to kids they came across while on the job.” He shrugged. “Maybe a member of the John Squad had given one to Baltes when he was a kid.”
Likely he was right. There had to be some personal connection for the offender to have included one at each scene. But Risa had moved on to a more pressing question. “How did you get to me so quickly?” She’d lost track of time after talking to him on the phone the night before. And he’d been in no mood for answering questions at the crime scene.
And with the medical personnel efficiently bustling around her, there hadn’t been much opportunity to ask then.
“Police helicopters,” he said tersely. “I’ll give him credit, when I called Morales, he had the commissioner on the line in minutes. And from there things moved fairly quickly.”
She recalled now the noise that had filled the air. The shouts she’d heard. But her vision had been hampered by the smoke. Her focus on keeping Eggers and her alive.
“Jett rounded up some fire blankets and gear and sent that with the first two teams. Fire trucks were dispatched.” And it would have been hard to miss the flicker of lingering fear in his eyes.
Raiker was silent for a few moments. His dark hair and eye patch contrasted starkly with the white sheets beneath his head. His condition didn’t detract from the fierce intelligence blazing from his single bright blue eye. But he was tiring rapidly. Risa caught Nate’s attention. Jerked her head slightly toward the door.
But before either of them could move, Raiker said abruptly, “I want to talk to Risa alone.”
She recognized the stubborn expression on Nate’s face. So she gave him a slight shove to get him moving toward the hallway. He’d been hovering like a guardian angel since she’d regained consciousness.
Catching a glimpse of a determined-looking nurse through the door before it closed, she looked at her boss and advised, “Better talk fast. The cavalry is getting restless.”
“How did you follow Baltes with his last victim?”
Adam needed no urging to get quickly to the point. “I saw it.”
He nodded, accepting what she didn’t say. The way he’d always accepted the dreams as the source of her instincts. Always, at least, since she’d apparently passed the battery of tests he’d thrown her way during the prehiring phase.
“Didn’t see the helicopters in the dreams, did you? Or the rescue. Probably not your own danger there.”
“They don’t work that way, you know that. I get snippets, not the whole. I have to make sense of the pieces.”
“I do know that.” He nodded. “Just wanted to make sure you finally recalled it yourself. Dreams, instincts . . . whatever the hell it is that drives your knowledge, are tempered by what you know. What you can deduce. The dreams mean nothing without the innate ability
to connect the pieces.” His gaze dropped to her hand. Traveled upward again. “You shot Baltes.”
Surprised, she met his gaze. He smiled wryly. “Think I don’t have outside sources? You drew your weapon. Fired it. Hit your target.”
“Do you need to pronounce it when you’re right?”
“No. I need to pronounce you cured. Now get out of here. Tell Paulie to put you back on the active list.” His voice was growing weaker. Which just seemed to make him more irritable.
Her throat grew full. But there was no objection on her lips. Not anymore. “Thank you, Adam.”
Giving up what appeared to be a losing battle, his eye closed. “For what?” he muttered. “Not accepting your resignation? There’s a little matter of you saving my life. Call it even.”
She gave a laugh that was dangerously close to a sob. And eased out of the room before he could call her on it.
Nate sprang away from his stance against the wall at her appearance. She noted with some pleasure that a number of her colleagues were gathered in the waiting room. But when she would have headed to join them, he guided her past the waiting-room door.
She had a moment to recognize Shepherd, the fed sent from DC to evaluate the failed operation resulting in Adam’s shooting. Then they were past the windows in a more isolated area of the hallway. “I want to get a chance to talk to Special Agent Shepherd.”
“I can tell you everything Dev repeated.” He held up a cup of coffee. “He’s as good with information as he is at dispensing caffeine. He said Ramsey told him that Shepherd had been all through Jennings’s financials. Had found his bankbook for the overseas account, where I guess the payment for potential hits would go. There were no deposits over the last six months. He’s guessing at this point that Jennings was working for himself.”
Risa shook her head. “There was no connection. Adam had never arrested Jennings. He’d never been involved in one of Adam’s cases.”