Justice for Hire

by Rayven T. Hill

  In a few seconds it popped open, and Chrissy stared at her, wide-eyed. “Whatever is the problem, Annie?”

  Annie rushed into the house. “Quickly. Shut the door and lock it. I need your phone,” she said, as she ran to the kitchen.

  Looking bewildered, Chrissy locked the door and followed Annie.

  “Bring the boys in. Hurry,” Annie said, as she scooped up the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

  Chapter 44

  Thursday, August 25th, 4:39 PM

  A SWARM OF police cars screamed to a standstill in front of the Lincoln residence. The officers, well trained in active-shooter situations, leaped from the vehicles and surrounded the building.

  Annie watched through Chrissy’s window as officers eased through the front door, guns drawn and ready. They would be checking room to room, and would expertly apprehend the shooter if she were still there.

  A few minutes later, as officers wandered from the house, their guns relaxed or holstered, Annie could tell the fugitive hadn’t been found. It was certain she’d disappeared when Annie had fled.

  Annie had called Jake immediately after notifying the police, and he was on his way home.

  Hank and King had just pulled up and were talking to the officers who’d searched the house. Annie knew the next step would be to put out an APB to try and locate the girl. They would need a description.

  She turned to Chrissy standing beside her, still wide-eyed. “I need to go over there. Please keep the boys inside until it’s safe.”

  Chrissy nodded. “I’ll make sure they stay upstairs.” She followed Annie to the front door.

  “And lock the door behind me,” Annie said, as she slipped outside. She heard the bolt slide in place behind her.

  She stood on the stoop a moment and looked down at her still trembling hands. She’d thought she wouldn’t have been so afraid, but she found out the hard way, having a gun pointed at you, and perhaps being one moment away from being shot, was a terrifying experience.

  She shook it off and headed down the steps. Hank noticed her when she reached the edge of the property and came across the lawn to greet her. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Annie nodded uncertainly. “I’m ok, just a bit of a sore leg from landing on it.” She detailed the entire story as Hank jotted notes in his pad.

  “What did the girl look like?”

  “About sixteen. Maybe five foot two or so. Reddish-blond hair. She was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt.”

  Hank scribbled the information down, and then asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital to get that leg looked at? You may have broken something.”

  Annie rubbed her leg. “It’ll be all right. It’s feeling better already and I’m sure nothing’s broken.”

  “Ok,” Hank said.

  Annie turned as she heard a familiar roar. The Firebird swung into the driveway and Jake jumped out. He raced across the lawn to Annie and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. He looked down at her. “You ok?”

  She offered him a weak smile and nodded. “I’m fine.”

  Simon King wandered over. Hank turned and shoved the notepad at him. “Here’s a description of the girl. Call it in right away.”

  King frowned and took the pad. Without a word, he turned back and headed toward Hank’s Chevy.

  Jake watched King leave. “That your new partner?” he asked.

  Hank glanced at King. “Temporary partner,” he corrected. “Detective Simon King.”

  “And you didn’t feel the need to introduce us?”

  Hank grunted. “Like I said, he’s temporary.”

  “You don’t sound too happy about it,” Annie said.

  Hank shrugged and changed the subject. “Annie, you couldn’t describe the gun the girl had, could you?”

  “I . . . I don’t know much about guns.” Annie chuckled. “It was black, but I didn’t stick around long enough to take a good look.”

  Hank nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Did the girl say anything to you?”

  “Nothing. But the look in her eyes said it all. A cold, hard look, like a killer.”

  “She can’t be far away,” Jake said. “Let’s hope they apprehend her.”

  Hank glanced toward the house. “The forensic unit will be here momentarily. They may be in the house awhile, though. Do you have a place to go?”

  “I’m sure Chrissy will take us in for now,” Annie replied.

  Hank nodded. “It may not be safe to go home until we get the girl.”

  “Do you think she’ll be back?” Jake asked.

  “She seemed intent on killing Annie,” Hank said. “She may be back. In the meantime, I’ll make sure a pair of officers watch Chrissy’s house, just in case.”

  Annie had noticed a van pull up to the curb in front of their house. It had the familiar Channel 7 logo on the side. “It looks like Lisa Krunk is here,” she said. “She’s the last person I want to talk to right now.”

  Hank and Jake glanced toward the street. “You two go on back to Chrissy’s,” Hank said. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Annie and Jake hurried into Chrissy’s house. Chrissy greeted them at the door. “Now, are you two going to tell me what this is all about?” she asked, as they came inside.

  “We’re not exactly sure,” Annie said.

  “It has to do with a case we’re working on,” Jake added. “Where are the boys?”

  “They’re fine. They’re upstairs.” Chrissy went into the front room and sat on the couch.

  A light tapping was heard on the front door, and then, “Hello?” It was Hank.

  Jake turned and swung the door open and Hank stepped inside. “I gave Lisa a quick statement,” he said, as he followed Jake into the front room and dropped onto the other end of the couch while Jake and Annie sat in the loveseat.

  Hank turned and grinned at Chrissy. “Sorry about invading your house like this, Chrissy.”

  “It’s ok. That’s what friends are for, but . . . I wish you would tell me what this all means.”

  “We’re unsure right now,” Hank said. “But I believe it’s related to the murders that have been taking place lately.”

  Chrissy caught her breath and leaned forward. “Are we in any danger here?”

  Hank shook his head. “A couple of officers will be parked outside to watch the house until the girl is apprehended. We have other officers combing the streets and canvassing the houses right now. They’ll check out anyone matching the girl’s description.” He turned to Jake. “Any luck today?”

  “Not yet. Sammy is on it with a gang of people he knows. He’s more confident than I am.”

  Chrissy’s head moved back and forth from Jake to Hank as they talked.

  “I got some interesting information from Nancy,” Hank said. “She checked the body of our second killer, the one who murdered Bobby Sullivan, and found an identical chip to the one inside the latest John Doe.”

  Annie spoke, “I’m betting when you catch this girl, she’ll have one too.”

  Hank’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from its holster and in a moment swung it toward Annie. “Is this the girl?” he asked.

  Annie looked at the puzzled girl on the screen and shook her head. “No, that’s not her.”

  Hank texted back a reply, and then asked, “Annie, do you have your cell with you?”

  “No, it’s in the house. I couldn’t get to it.”

  “I have mine,” Jake said.

  Hank nodded. “I’ll have them send any more pictures of possible suspects to your phone, so Annie can take a look at them. Finding this girl is our prime concern right now. She could be the solution to stopping this madness.”

  Hank made a call and arranged with the officer in charge of the search, and then stood and said, “I’d better get back out there. Be sure to stay in the house for now. I can only assume you’re still a target and we don’t want to take any chances.”

  Chapter 45

  Thursday, August 25th, 5:
59 PM

  OLIVER CRAIG reached to a stand beside his easy chair, retrieved the remote control, and flicked on the television. The announcer’s rich voice filled his den, proclaiming the upcoming news.

  Craig never missed the news. It was his way of keeping up with the pulse of the city, his city. Or at least, it soon would be, if everything continued according to plan.

  The familiar Channel 7 logo flashed on the screen and the anchor announced the top story. Craig leaned forward with great interest, sipping a bourbon, as the face of Lisa Krunk appeared. She was standing on the sidewalk in a residential neighborhood. Police officers milled in the background, some carrying rifles or pistols, now relaxed and at their side. Patrol cars with flashing lights parked in awkward angles at the curb.

  Craig smiled grimly. It looked like another coup for him. The girl had succeeded in her mission, and now he could feel the momentum building. He was one step closer. He could taste it, smell it, feel the power as it filled him and propelled him on. He took another sip of his drink and relaxed deeper into the chair.

  “I’m standing in front of the home of private investigators Jake and Annie Lincoln, where just a few moments ago, a shooter invaded the home. Several shots were reported fired but the intended victim managed to escape unharmed.”

  Craig choked on his drink and managed to sputter a string of curses. Something had gone terribly wrong.

  “The unknown assailant, described as being a teenage girl, has not yet been apprehended. Police have organized an intensive manhunt for the would-be killer and they expect to make an arrest shortly.

  “According to informed sources, the target of the assassin was Annie Lincoln. Viewers will recall my previous reports on the recent murders in Richmond Hill, and it’s suspected this latest attempt is related. The Lincolns have been deeply involved in that, and it’s my belief this is a desperate attempt to remove them from the investigation.

  “I spoke briefly to Detective Hank Corning, the detective in charge of this situation. As most of you remember, Detective Corning has been investigating the prior murders we’ve seen, and his record has been impeccable as long as I’ve known him.”

  Craig was livid, his face contorted into an angry frown. Had he underestimated the Lincolns, or had the girl failed him somehow? He leaned forward in his seat and listened to the rest of the bad news as the scene cut to a closeup of a familiar face. Detective Corning looked straight at the camera.

  “I want to tell the citizens there’s no immediate cause for alarm. Police will be doing a door-to-door canvass of this area in Richmond Hill. This is not a random targeting and there’s no indication anyone else is in any danger, but if you live in this area, please exercise caution and stay in your homes. Don’t answer the door for anyone except the police until the shooter is apprehended.”

  The camera panned, showing a shot of the scene, the street, and the police cars, their lights still flashing. Lisa Krunk appeared to be mocking Craig when her face reappeared.

  “Channel 7 will keep you informed of any breaking developments, by special bulletins, until the danger has passed. In an exclusive report, I’m Lisa Krunk, for Channel 7 Action News.”

  Craig jumped to his feet and turned off the TV. He tossed the remote aside and reached for his cell phone. He hit speed dial and paced impatiently until he heard Wolff’s voice on the line.

  Craig screamed into the phone, “Wolff, what happened?”

  There was silence from the other end, and then, “What . . . what is it, sir?”

  “The girl, you fool. She failed in her mission.”

  No response for a moment, and then, “She failed, sir?”

  “Yes. The target got away. What happened?”

  “I . . . I don’t know, sir. I . . .”

  Craig took a deep breath and tried to cool himself down. This could jeopardize everything. He had to think clearly.

  “Wolff, can you find her?” He spoke more calmly now.

  “Yes, we should be able to pinpoint her exact location. Do you want me to send the boys to bring her in?”

  “Yes, yes. Bring her in immediately. And Wolff . . . ?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Tell them if they can’t bring her in safely, they must deal with the situation.”

  “Deal with it how?”

  “Eliminate her. She must not be exposed to any police interrogation.”

  “I believe she would remain loyal if . . . if that were to happen.”

  “We can’t take that chance. Bring her in or get rid of her. Those are our only safe options.”

  Wolff protested, “Sir, as you recall, the first girl was captured and, as far as we know, she has remained loyal. I believe they have been conditioned properly, leaving no element of danger in such a situation.”

  “The first girl may be loyal so far, but we have no guarantee she’ll remain that way. It’s definitely a real problem, and I can’t afford another error.” Craig paused a moment before continuing, “Now, do as I say. We have no choice.”

  Wolff sighed. “Yes, sir. I’ll get them on it right away.”

  “Let me know exactly how things are going.” Craig hung up the phone and tossed it onto the chair.

  What a mess. How could this happen. The girl had a lot of practice with a handgun, and was a good shooter, as well as familiar with a knife.

  For a moment, Craig felt a wave of fear, and then desperation. They hadn’t planned for a situation like this. In fact, he never expected anything like this could happen. But if all turned out well, perhaps they should slow down, let his plans take a little longer to be accomplished, and do more testing of the candidates before issuing them their mission.

  He dropped back into his chair and hoped he would come out of this unharmed.

  Chapter 46

  Thursday, August 25th, 6:10 PM

  FROM THE UPPER floor window, the girl had watched her target race across the back lawn to the house next door.

  She hadn’t been given instructions on how to proceed should she fail in her attempt. She only knew the operation was still active, the prey was on the loose, and she must succeed. Those were her orders. That was her plan.

  She’d been shown pictures of both targets, and was given their names. She’d memorized the information, and was determined not to disappoint the Wizard.

  After she’d dropped from the back window, her first instinct was to pursue the target. But Annie Lincoln would be on her guard. It would be better to let things cool, and then proceed.

  She’d noticed a couple of boys in the backyard of the house where the quarry had entered. Someone had appeared at the back door almost immediately and called them in. They weren’t her target, and it was better they were out of the way.

  After skirting around behind the Lincoln house, and then to the property behind the house where Annie Lincoln was, she had lain in wait, patiently, under cover of a row of thick bushes that bordered the property, for what she calculated to be well over an hour.

  She needed to be sure the police had cleared away from the rear of the house, and all was quiet, before she proceeded with her assignment. She must not fail.

  She checked her weapon. She’d used four rounds. Still plenty left, and she was thankful the Wizard had been wise enough to load the weapon fully. She checked for her knife, attached in a sheath at her ankle. The backup weapon was still there.

  She listened intently, but heard nothing to cause alarm. The backyard of both houses were clear, and as she scrutinized the dwelling in front of her, no one could be seen moving about.

  Time to move.

  She scrambled forward, out of the bushes, and stood to her feet, the gun in her right hand. She kept low as she dashed across the lawn and crouched in front of a basement window. She assumed the doors would be locked. This was her only way in. She peeked cautiously through the window. The room was darkened and no one was about.

  Removing the knife from its sleeve, she balanced it a moment on one finger, and then flicked it a
round and forced the razor-sharp edge into the space between the upper and lower panes. She worked several minutes before finally hearing a satisfying click, and the clasp was free.

  She carefully tucked the knife away and eased up on the lower frame of the window. It was tight, but she managed to work it loose. It groaned and squealed as she raised it completely.

  She paused and looked around, listened a moment, and then swung through the window, feet first, and landed with an easy drop to the concrete floor below.

  She turned and surveyed the dim room. A washer and dryer. Some stuff on a row of shelving, and a door beyond.

  She crossed the small room, twisted the knob, and eased the door open a couple of inches. She listened, and then swung the door enough to glide through.

  She was in a larger room–the rest of the basement. It was dark as well, but she could make out a set of steps that led upwards. She skirted around some exercise equipment, avoided a pile of boxes and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The stairwell was dark, and she would have to be careful.

  With one hand on the railing, the other clutching the pistol, she took the first step. She’d expected them to squeak, and was pleased all was quiet. She couldn’t afford to warn the target. There would be no likelihood of a third chance should she fail this time. The Wizard would not be pleased and she would be devastated. The thought was unbearable. She must succeed, at all cost.

  She took the second step carefully, her foot feeling the way in front. The wooden step made no sound.

  More confident now, she climbed upward, testing each step before resting her full weight. Twelve steps up, she gently touched the door at the top, and felt for the knob.