Shoot: A Crime Thriller (CJ Sheridan Thrillers Book 1)

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Shoot: A Crime Thriller (CJ Sheridan Thrillers Book 1) Page 4

by M. P. McDonald


  He drifted off to sleep, his body relaxing.

  * * *

  She descended the stairs from the train platform. The streetlight bathing her in an eerie glow, but her footsteps were quiet. She wore sneakers. White sneakers with dark pants. Her matching top was boxy and CJ saw square pockets stitched onto the front of the top. Scrubs. She was a nurse, or maybe a doctor. Or something like that. As she crossed the street, CJ saw the street signs. The names meant nothing to him, but the names repeated over the scene like background music in a movie.

  The scene continued, and it felt so real, CJ felt the chill of a cool breeze, damp and smelling faintly of fish.. He never noticed a fishy smell in the day-time, but a light mist rose from the pavement as it released the heat it had absorbed during the day. It carried the odor along with exhaust and over all, was the scent of pizza. He glanced around and saw an Italian restaurant. It was a chain one. He tried to recall if the boxes in the Dumpster matched the logos, but the woman passed the eatery without pausing and nothing happened to her.

  CJ crossed the street behind the woman, hesitating when a car shot through the intersection, narrowly missing him. The driver had never seen him, and he wondered if he could have walked right through the vehicle as if he was a ghost. He glanced at the street signs again, changing the mantra that had been playing in the back of his mind to the new names.

  The area went from upscale to a bit seedier and CJ continued tailing the young woman. She hesitated in front of a hamburger place, and CJ tensed. This restaurant matched the style of boxes he’d seen in the photos. The woman tried the front doors, but they were locked. Stepping back, she rummaged in her bag, taking out her cellphone. It was while she was distracted that the man approached her. CJ almost missed him too, as he was watching the woman, but he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. A man dressed in a black hoodie and dark pants slipped out of the shadow of the drive through alley.

  CJ shouted a warning, forgetting that she wouldn’t be able to hear him. The man bumped her hard, sending the cellphone flying into a small hedge beside the door. She never even had a chance to scream as her attacker wrapped an arm around her waist, a knife pressed tight against her chest. His other arm circled her head as he clamped a hand over her mouth.

  Her eyes opened wide, the whites gleaming, as she struggled against him. The knife tore into her scrub top and CJ didn’t know if she had been stabbed, but she stopped struggling. He had never felt so useless in his life as he was forced to watch the brutal attack. In the first moments, he’d raced to her side, but there was nothing he could do to save her. Not yet. The man threw her on the ground, and when she opened her mouth to scream, he pounced on her, the knife flat against her throat. Little whimpering noises came from her as the attack continued.

  CJ raged, standing over them, trying in vain to land a blow, but nothing connected. The dream was so real, he forgot it was nothing but a vision. He had no substance here. Breathing hard, he finally stood back and tried to assess the situation. What could he do to stop this tomorrow? A gun might help. Would he be able to buy one here? Could he use his father’s? Even as the idea hit him, he looked for alternatives. There had never been a moment when he would have had a clear shot. Had the man been hiding in the alley for a long time or had he just happened upon the woman?

  Could he stop the man before the attack took place? And how? If CJ had a weapon and took the offensive, the chances were, he’d be the one accused of a crime. He’d have no proof the man was going to attack the woman.

  It was the hardest thing he had ever done to watch the attack on the woman at his feet. The man ripped her clothes off, and CJ recoiled, bile rising in his throat as the attacker sexually assaulted the woman. His hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing the last breath from her as he grunted in apparent satisfaction.

  The woman’s eyes had lost their focus, their life. CJ gagged, struggling to hang onto the vision even as his instincts screamed at him to awake from this nightmare.

  The man rolled off the woman, shoved his knife into his front pocket of the hoodie, and ran back down the alley. His hood had been up the entire time and CJ tried to follow, hoping to get a good look at the man, but one second, CJ was racing down a dark alley, the next, he was in the guest bedroom at his dad’s.

  The clock showed the time as four thirty-two, and the sky was beginning to turn light. Disoriented, CJ stared at the clock. Had the attack already taken place? It had been so real, it was hard to believe he had actually been in bed the whole time. He glanced down, expecting to find himself dressed in jeans and black hoodie. It was what he’d been wearing in his dream. Instead, he was still wearing the pair of cutoff sweats he'd donned before hitting the sheets.

  * * *

  CJ shivered, his teeth chattering as the vision raced through his mind on a loop. He sat on the edge of the bed, the quilt up around his shoulders, clutching the soft fabric in his clenched hands.

  He didn’t know how long he sat like that, but at some point, he realized he needed to write the details down. Mark had stressed that, and CJ had a paper and pen ready, but his hands refused to cooperate at first and when he finally released the quilt, his fingers felt stiff. He caught the loop in the beginning and jotted down everything he had seen. Every little detail went into the notes. It wasn’t any easier seeing it again in his mind than it had been when he’d dreamed it.

  Finished, he headed for the shower. It was early, but there was no way he could go back to sleep now, and he had to devise a plan to prevent the attack.

  Even after a long, hot shower, he couldn’t seem to get warm. After dressing, he checked the thermostat to see what the air conditioner was set at. It wasn’t any lower than he set in his own at his apartment. Coffee. That would do the trick.

  His stomach churned and the thought of eating repulsed him, but thinking that food might help settle it, he grabbed a granola bar from his dad’s pantry, chowing down on it even before the pot of coffee had finished brewing. He hoped the scent wouldn’t wake his dad. It was barely five o’clock and he didn’t think his dad woke up before seven. It seemed to take forever, but not long after the aroma filled the room, the brew filled the pot and he poured a cup, cradling the mug in his hands in attempt to transfer the heat to the rest of his body.

  The instant it was cool enough, he sipped it, wincing as it scalded his tongue, after the second sip, he finally felt the warmth seep through him.

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he jumped in surprise. Who would be calling him at this time? Mark. CJ broke into a wide grin. “Hey, Mark.”

  “I thought you’d be awake by now. It seems I always would get the dreams just before dawn.”

  “I am so glad you called. My dad’s still sleeping and after the fight we had last night about the camera, I’m not even sure he’d help me. I may not even tell him about it.”

  “What did you see? Did you write it all down?”

  “Yeah, as soon as I woke up, just like you suggested. I saw all of it.” CJ paused as he processed the vision again as he spoke to Mark. He propped an elbow on the table and rested his head on his first two fingers and thumb, rubbing his temple. He told Mark the details, then drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. “Of course, I’ll be there, but the guy had a knife. Hey! Do you own a gun? I don’t have a permit in this state, but if you came along-”

  “Hold on a second. I don’t own a gun, for starters, and even if I did, it’s illegal to carry a gun in Chicago. Also, I can’t be there with you. I wish I could, but unfortunately, I have a different murder to deal with around that time. A husband is going to kill his wife and three kids before killing himself.”

  CJ paused with his mug half-way to his mouth. He set it down with a thump. “Are you kidding?”

  “I wish I was, but no, I’m not kidding. I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do yet either. The guy’s a millionaire and probably has a security system that rivals Fort Knox.”

  CJ shook his head, glad his
was just one person out in the open. If he had a gun, maybe he could scare the guy off. “So what do I do? I can’t go against that guy unarmed.”

  “Listen, why don’t we go grab some breakfast and figure this out.”

  “Sounds good.” They decided on a diner Mark knew about that wasn’t very far away. “See ya in about twenty minutes.”

  “Who are you seeing in twenty minutes?” His dad entered the kitchen. He wore a t-shirt and shorts, and had a mp3 player strapped to his arm. The wires from ear-buds dangled from his hand.

  “Going out for breakfast with Mark. Want to come?”

  “Thanks, but I’m going for a run, then I have to shower.”

  CJ had made the offer out of politeness, so when his father refused, the disappointment hit him by surprise. “Oh. I didn’t know you ran.”

  “Yes, believe it or not, I’m not too old to get five miles a day in.”

  “I didn’t mean to sound shocked, it’s just, well, I never saw you exercise much before.”

  “I started after your mom and I divorced.” He shrugged. “It helped me deal with it.” He turned his attention to the MP3 player, and few seconds later, CJ heard the faint sound of music from the ear-buds.

  It had never occurred to CJ that the divorce had even affected his dad, but here he was confessing that he needed help dealing with it.

  * * *

  CJ slid into the booth across from Mark. “I haven’t figured out what to do yet, but I have a few ideas.”

  Looking over the top of his menu, Mark said, “You’re what…a few inches over six feet? What do you weigh? I’d guess about One-eighty-five. I bet just hanging around will scare the attacker off.”

  “One-ninety,” CJ answered absently. “But before I came here, I did a quick Internet search like you suggested yesterday and found out that there are three other attacks in the last month in the same area where the nurse was killed. I mean, where she will be killed. Unless I stop it.” He had to remember that the visions he saw hadn’t actually happened yet. They just seemed like they had.

  Mark lifted his cup of coffee. “How do you know she’s a nurse?”

  “Well, I don’t for sure, but she’s dressed like one and that “L” line has a stop close to a hospital. Looking at the schedule, it seems like the timing was right for someone who got off work around eleven pm. I figure if there’s only a day’s notice for me, it can’t be much later than that, and that restaurant was closed. I looked it up and they close at ten on weeknights. Since I didn’t see any workers around, I figured that narrows down the time frame to between eleven pm. and midnight.”

  “See? I told you that you were meant for this.” Mark grinned, and looked over CJ’s shoulder. “Here comes our breakfast.”

  CJ took the hint and remained silent as the waitress set their meals in front of him. The aroma of fried eggs, bacon and hash browns made his mouth water. He didn’t hesitate as he dug in. The earlier nausea had completely abated and instead he felt a thrill of excitement at the coming adventure.

  After a few minutes, his initial hunger sated, he took up where he’d left off. “So, what I was getting at before was that this isn’t the first nurse who’s been a victim. Three other women who work at that hospital have been attacked over the last month. One was a lab tech, but I don’t think that matters. Whoever it is has a thing for nurses.”

  “Or a vendetta.”

  “Good point. There was a little write up on it in the newspaper, but it said police didn’t have any leads in the attacks.”

  Mark nodded. “Sounds like it could be the same man, but your guy kills the woman tonight.”

  “Yeah.” CJ dipped his toast in the egg yolk and bit into it. Why had he killed his victim this time? If it even was the same guy. “Maybe he didn’t mean to,” CJ said, but as he recalled the deliberate strangulation, he trashed that theory. He set his fork down as he saw the dream again. “Except, she wasn’t fighting too much by then. I don’t know if he intended to kill her or if he just didn’t care, but he didn’t look remorseful or scared at all when he’d…when he’d finished.” CJ gulped his orange juice, then said in a low, harsh voice, “He just took off and left her lying there.”

  Mark nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I know. It’s tough to experience it and not be able to help-yet.”

  CJ took a deep breath and tried to finish his breakfast. Poking at his hash browns, anger boiled as he saw the woman’s face again. It was as if the image was branded onto his retinas and he couldn’t erase it. He set the fork back on the table as his appetite evaporated. How could anyone do that to a woman? He imagined beating the guy to a pulp when he caught him.

  CJ gave a shake of his head. Getting distracted with thoughts of retribution wouldn’t help the woman. He didn’t need revenge-he needed a plan. “Anyway, it made me think that just scaring this guy off will only mean that he’ll probably attack someone else again, sooner or later.” He braced an elbow on the table and leaned his head on his hand.

  “I think you’re right.” Mark blew out a deep breath. “Damn. I wish I could go with you. What about Jim? I think he should go with you on this one.”

  “My dad doesn’t want me using the camera at all, so I don’t want to run to him the very first time I use it.” CJ glanced up from the mess he was making with his potatoes and egg yolk to find Mark watching him, his expression pensive. He moved his plate aside and straightened his shoulders. “I mean, come on-just last night I was telling him how I could do this…”

  “No, I get it. I hear what you’re saying.” Mark was quiet, his gaze turned inward. After a moment, he shrugged. “Sorry, I’m just trying to think up something helpful and wise, but failing on both counts.”

  CJ chuckled. “Now I don’t feel so stupid.”

  “Take a knife at least, and your cell phone. Maybe practice some of your kung fu. Maybe I can finish my job before then and meet you there.” Mark pushed his empty plate away and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Karate, not kung fu.”

  “Oh. Well, whatever. If you can, call the cops as soon as you spot the guy. If they get there soon enough, you might not have to do anything.”

  “You mean just let the guy do what he wants-short of killing her?” That sounded worse than no plan at all to CJ.

  “No. You’re right. I can’t imagine standing around watching that and not helping either. Sorry I even mentioned it.” Mark ran a hand through his hair. “I just hate the idea of you going in without back-up. If something happened to you…”

  “What? You’d feel responsible? Guilty?”

  Mark didn’t admit it, but he didn’t deny it either.

  “Don’t, Mark. I made my own decision to get into this. If you’re worried about my dad, I’ll make sure he knows that too, before I leave tonight.”

  “Fine.” Mark caught the waitress’ eye and motioned for the check. “I think I’m just going to try to cause a disruption at the bar my crazy guy goes to before he murders his family. “From what I’ve seen since the first vision-I think he just snaps. He’s been out of work and depressed, from what I heard him mumbling at the bar. If I can talk to him, I might be able to stop the whole thing.”

  Glad to have something to think about besides his own problem, CJ tried to picture what Mark described. “You might befriend him at the bar or something.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to try. And then follow him home to make sure something there doesn’t trigger the rampage.”

  CJ pulled out his wallet and pulled out some bills, tossing them on the table. “So, say you stop it tonight…what’s to stop the guy from killing his family tomorrow night instead?”

  “Nothing. Except I might get another vision if he tried again. I hope I would, anyway.”

  “Like a do-over?”

  Mark smiled. “Yeah, I guess. It’s never happened before where I stopped something only to have it happen again in the next vision.”

  CJ promised to keep Mark updated with texts that evening.


  At his dad’s house, CJ did as Mark suggested and practiced karate. While he hadn’t done it officially in several years, he was relieved that it all came back to him. The hours spent practicing the same movements over and over had paid off and his muscles remembered the moves.

  He took a quick shower, and then headed out to a sporting goods store and picked up a hunting knife and a sheath. CJ hadn’t ever been hunting before and when the salesman tried to engage him in conversation about the sport, he had to lie and say the knife was a gift for a friend.

  The rest of the day, he did more research and by the time he was done, he had read different news accounts of the three attacks and found police reports. He was convinced more than ever that it was the same guy and that if CJ only scared the attacker away, he would just target someone else on another night. Mark had said he never had the same vision twice, so he assumed what he changed stayed changed, but what if the magic of the camera only gave them the one chance to change something? If they blew it, it might not warn them about it again.

  It was obvious that in a city the size of Chicago that Mark couldn’t get visions of everyone who needed his help, so it made sense to CJ that only the lucky people made it into the visions. Would fate give those people a third chance? Or alter the behavior of the bad guys so that they never committed another crime? CJ didn’t think it was likely so he had to get it right the very first time.

  Chapter Four

  CJ left the house at nine. He knew it was probably overkill as far as getting to the location on time because according to his Chicago street map, it was only a few miles away, but he wanted time to get his bearings. He had debated what to wear. What does a guy wear when he’s about to save someone’s life? A fleeting image of a black mask and cape crossed his mind and he snorted. Yeah, that would really blend in well. Grinning at the mental image, he sorted through his clothes and opted for dark blue jeans and a black light-weight hoodie. That was conspicuous enough since it was a warm evening. The hoodie was large on him and when he pulled it down, it would cover the knife sheath. His cellphone was charged up and in his pocket, his knife in the sheath snapped on to his belt. He went into the fast-food restaurant just before they closed and ordered a soft drink. He wasn’t really very thirsty, but he wanted to get a look at the employees to see if any of them matched the height and build of the attacker. There were only three working that late and none matched.

 

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