Jessie Black Legal Thrillers Box Set 1

by Larry A Winters

  “What about that?” he said.

  She hesitated, then placed it on the floor, ignoring Reggie’s disapproving look. Leaving the gun behind made her uneasy, but she knew it wouldn’t do them any good while they were hanging from the side of the building, and if they managed to survive the descent, they wouldn’t need it on the sixth floor. “Are you ready?” she said.

  There was another gunshot. When she looked up, Kenny Rodriguez was rolling on the floor, his right eye a mess of blood and gore, and the door was missing enough wood that she could see the men behind it. They saw her, too, and turned their guns in her direction.

  “I am now,” Reggie said.

  When Leary arrived at the CJC, the scene looked pretty much the same as when he’d left, but it took him only seconds to realize that something had changed. There was a pervasive sense of alarm now, people jogging from one van to another, people speaking into phones, people getting ready for something. Leary traced the stares and pointing fingers upward to the side of the courthouse building.

  “I told you not to come here, Detective Leary!”

  Leary spun around to see Lieutenant Chancey bearing down on him, flanked by uniformed officers whose sidearms were drawn. Leary stood his ground to face them. There was no retreating now. “What’s going on here? Is that ... is that Jessie up there?” He didn’t need Chancey to answer. He could recognize her even from down here. At the sight of her, his chest seemed to clench up. “Is this your idea of a plan? She can’t climb down the side of a building! She’s going to die up there!” He watched her, helpless to do anything but shout.

  “It wasn’t our idea. A deputy sheriff proposed it, without our authorization. But it’s too late to intervene now.”

  “What do you mean, too late? Tell the deputy to stand down and tell Jessie to get back inside the building!”

  Chancey glanced at his flunkies. “Take him into custody until he calms down.”

  “I don’t need to calm down!”

  “Yes, you do.” Chancey glared at him. “She can’t go back. The attackers found her and Tuck. If she doesn’t go down the side of the building, she’ll be shot.”

  “You should have sent SWAT teams in, assaulted the building! What have you been doing all this time?”

  “I’ll ask you one more time to calm down.”

  He tried. He told himself that people in life-or-death situations were known to accomplish seemingly crazy feats. That after all that Jessie had been through today, there must be more adrenaline in her veins than blood. That he’d seen her do heroic things before, like during the Ramsey fiasco. None of it made him feel any better.

  The two uniforms approached him with wary movements. Leary put his hands up, not resisting. One of them grabbed his hands and secured them behind his back while the other held a gun on him, his expression a mixture of guilt and nervousness.

  “Do you know what a body looks like when it falls seventeen stories and hits the pavement?” Leary said, locking eyes with Chancey. “It’s so bad even the media won’t run the pictures. If Jessie dies, it’s on you.”

  “Are you threatening me, Detective Leary?”

  “You can still stop this.”

  Chancey patted his pockets until he found a cigarette. His fingers trembled as he brought it to his mouth and lit it. “It’s too late. All we can do now is let this play out.”

  Leary turned away and gritted his teeth. He tried to hold back his rage, to salvage what little remained of his career prospects, but the sight of Jessie in danger had shredded those concerns. “You’re a coward, Lieutenant.”

  He regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth. But it was too late to take them back. Chancey stood and smoked his cigarette, still and silent. But his peacefulness was an illusion. Anger burned in his stare.

  Jessie swept broken glass from the window frame. Behind her, she could hear the attackers battering the door. She swung one leg over the edge, pivoted so that she was facing Reggie’s wide-eyed, panicked face, and then, gripping the bottom of the window frame with both hands, brought her other leg over it as well and lowered her body until she was hanging from the window. Wind whistled past her ears. Her hair flapped around her head, obstructing her vision. Looking up, she could see Reggie staring down at her.

  “This is, hands-down, the stupidest shit I have ever been a part of!” he said. He glanced behind him and his jaw slackened. When he met her stare again, there was a new determination in his features. “They’re almost through the door.”

  “Come on!”

  Reggie crouched over the window frame. He dangled one foot into the air, and even over the wind she heard him moan. But a moment later he was hanging beside her. His jacket ballooned like a sail and his tie whipped around his cheeks. “Now what?”

  “Look down. We’re directly above a ledge. If we get to the ledge, then we can lower ourselves to the window below us.” Glancing down, she could see the deputy sheriff down there, Kurt Garrett, staring up at them. Even though she’d never met the man, he was a comforting sight.

  “Look down?” Reggie said. “Really? We’re hanging off a skyscraper and you’re telling me to look down?” A strand of her hair found its way into his mouth, and he spat it out with panicked puffs and pants.

  “We only need to drop a little bit.” The ledge beneath them couldn’t be more than a foot from her dangling feet, and it looked wide enough to stand on. But she had no idea how the physics would work. If she and Reggie simply let go, would they drop straight to the ledge, landing on their feet? Or would they bounce off of the narrow surface and plummet to their deaths? The space between their feet and the ledge seemed like such a short distance, but that didn’t make the risk any less harrowing. She stared at the ledge, her legs weaving and scissoring above it, and wished there were a drainpipe or some other structure to hold onto as she lowered herself down. Then another possibility occurred to her. “Listen, Reggie. You go first. Hold onto my body and climb down me.”

  “You mean like a ladder? Are you seriously this crazy?”

  At this point, she was starting to wonder herself. There was still time to haul herself back up and through the window. But that would only put her and Reggie back in the trap from which they were trying to escape. “Once you reach the ledge, you can help me down. It’s the only way we can do this safely.”

  “Ain’t nothing about this that’s safe!”

  “I mean without letting go completely.”

  He stared at her. His eyes had taken on a bulging, manic appearance. “You are serious.”

  “Just do it before I lose my nerve.”

  He shook his head, then, grimacing, lifted one hand off of the window ledge. His body pinwheeled away from the wall, and for a long second, as he seemed to hang in space, Jessie thought she was watching Reggie Tuck die. Then, almost without thought, she took one hand off of the window and grabbed his arm. She pulled his weight back in the direction of the building. His chest thumped the concrete wall and his hand grabbed the window ledge again. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I told you, I can’t do this!”

  “You can,” Jessie said. His face was centimeters from hers. She could smell his sweat and his terror. “Reggie, listen to me. You can. You have to.”

  Reggie grunted and nodded his head several times, as if to rev up his own courage. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s do this shit right.” He removed his hand from the window ledge, moving more slowly this time, and placed it on her hip. “Just gonna ... gonna hold onto you like a railing. Like a railing on a staircase.” His fingers pinched painfully into her body, but she didn’t say anything, fearful of breaking his concentration. “Just gonna hold the railing and hop down past those last few stairs.”

  “That’s right,” she said.

  “Here we go.” He took his other hand off of the window ledge and half-fell, half-swung downward. She felt his weight yank at her for a moment. Her fingers clutched the window ledge in a death grip. The skin of her fingers scraped the rough concrete as her grip sl
ipped. She let out a scream. Then the pressure of his hand on her waist vanished and she heard the slap of his shoes hitting the concrete ledge a foot below them and she clawed her hands back to their original positions. She heard Reggie’s yell over the wind in her ears. “I did it! Holy fuck!”

  Jessie’s chest convulsed as a laugh shuddered out of her. Holy fuck, indeed. “Just be careful!”

  “Okay,” Reggie said. “Your turn.” She felt his hands—both of them this time—take hold of her waist. “I’ve got you. Just, I don’t know, let go and kind of slide down the wall to me.”

  She did let go, and he grunted as he took her weight and lowered her to the ledge beside him. The concrete warmed her feet through her nylons, but she didn’t dare let herself relax. They were only halfway to their goal, and although their feet were on relatively solid ground, their hands had nothing to hold onto. Reggie, obviously aware of this fact, had pressed himself flat against the side of the building like a man about to be frisked.

  “Almost there,” she said.

  “Just let me rest a minute. Catch my breath.”

  She looked down. Beyond the ledge, Garrett looked closer now. His face tilted up at her, squinting against the sunlight. All they had to do now was drop into his arms.

  Leary stood with his hands cuffed behind his back and watched two people scale the wall of the Criminal Justice Center. All around him, cops craned their necks, dumbstruck expressions on their faces. The two uniforms who’d cuffed him were no different. They appeared to have forgotten he was even there. Only Lieutenant Chancey seemed to remember him—or, more importantly, the words he’d just spoken. The man’s gaze alternated between the figures above and Leary.

  They both knew if Jessie and Tuck fell, if their bodies struck the ground and turned into paste, Chancey would be blamed. Slone had put him in charge of this situation, and the safety of everyone in that building was his responsibility. Leary had been wrong to call him a coward. But the cold, angry look in Chancey’s eyes told Leary an apology wouldn’t be worth the breath. Instead, he said, “They’ll make it. Jessie will get them to the window safely.”

  Chancey looked at him, surprised. He didn’t say anything. He dropped his cigarette and ground it into the street with his shoe.

  “She’s a survivor,” Leary said.

  He didn’t know if he believed his own words, but Jessie and Tuck were in motion and there was nothing to do now but watch. And hope. It looked like Jessie and Tuck had managed to lower themselves to the ledge between the floors. If they could just make it down to the next window, and the waiting deputy—

  “Who the hell is that?” Chancey stared up at the building, his hands bunched into fists.

  Leary followed his gaze and saw a figure at the window. A man. The shape in his hand was unmistakable. A gun. The man leaned out the window, aiming the gun downward toward Jessie and Tuck.

  “No!” Leary shouted. Not that shouting would do any good. He heard a bang, muffled by distance and wind. He squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to have to watch Jessie’s body topple from the side of the building. But when he opened them, Jessie and Tuck were still alive, clinging to their perch on the ledge. The man toppled forward, out the window, and plummeted past them.

  A cop ran up to Chancey. “The remaining deputies and cops on Seven have engaged the intruders!”

  More gunfire sounded from the building. Leary fixed his gaze on Jessie and willed her to keep moving. Get to safety.

  Jessie pressed herself against the concrete edifice of the building, wind rushing through her hair, and braced herself for the gunshot that would end her life. But when the shot came, it didn’t hit her or Reggie. The man who’d aimed a gun at them from the window fell forward. His body rushed past them, dropping through the air with terrifying speed. Someone had shot him. The other deputies must have joined the fight upstairs.

  “You need to hurry!” Garrett yelled to them. His voice sounded closer now, and she clung to that thought. She looked down at him. Still squinting against the sun, he edged more of his torso through the sixth floor window. He had rolled up the sleeves of his deputy’s uniform. As he raised his bare arms toward her, the sharp definition of his muscles in the sun’s glare was a comforting sight.

  “You want to go first?” Jessie said to Reggie when the wind died down. He was hugging the wall as if he could pass through it and into the building through sheer force of will.

  He shook his head, but did not turn to meet her stare. “You go.”

  She was afraid if she went first, he’d never follow. “Don’t be scared. We’re almost there.”

  “I’m not scared. I’m a ... a gentleman. Ladies first and shit.”

  She peered at him, trying to determine if he was being serious. “Listen to me. We need to get down to the next window. If you want me to go first, I’ll go first. But you better come right after me. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “Because I’m not leaving you behind.”

  “Yeah, I get it.”

  She squatted on the ledge, her head at the level of Reggie’s knees, and risked a look down. Garrett’s neck and shoulders seemed to tense as he braced himself to receive her. Beyond the deputy, she could see people and vans and police cars far below. She knew Leary was down there somewhere, watching her, and the thought brought an unexpected surge of courage.

  She swung her legs off of the ledge and lowered her body until she was hanging by her fingers. A hand gripped her right ankle, followed a moment later by another hand gripping her left. She looked down and saw the top of Garrett’s head. He had turned his face away, apparently out of some misguided chivalry.

  “I don’t care if you look up my skirt, Kurt! Just get me down from here!”

  His face snapped upward. “I’ve got your ankles, but I can’t reach any higher. You need to let go. I’ll catch you.”

  “No, wait!” The voice was Reggie’s, coming from above. She looked up and found that he had moved into a squatting position, copying her own earlier movements. Now he placed his hands on hers. “Hold onto me. I’ll lower you further so he can get a better grip, higher up on your body.”

  She shook her head. “The ledge is too narrow. I’d pull you right off.”

  Reggie gritted his teeth and maneuvered his body until he was lying flat on the ledge. “I only need to lower you an arm’s length, and the deputy will be able to grab you.”

  Jessie wasn’t convinced, but Reggie didn’t give her a choice. His fingers pried her hands off of the side of the ledge and into his own hands. She heard him grunt, and then she descended suddenly as his arms hung over the edge. Garrett’s hands moved from her ankles to her thighs, and then to her waist. “I’ve got you!” he called.

  “Okay, Reggie!” She looked up and realized, even before Reggie did, that it was too late. He had overbalanced. His body tilted over the edge and into the air. She heard him scream.

  Jessie tightened her hands around his. He toppled over her head in a somersault that almost tore her arms out of their sockets. Pain throbbed in her arms and shoulders, but she held on. Garrett managed to hold on as well, his hands gripping her waist even as the force of Reggie’s fall almost ripped her out of his grasp. Reggie’s body jerked to a stop and he hung in space, his fingers entwined with Jessie’s.

  Jessie twisted her head to look at the deputy. The man was smiling now, flush with victory, and she couldn’t help smiling back as he started to haul them inside.

  26

  With one arm wrapped around her waist and his other hand gripping Reggie’s forearm, Kurt Garrett pulled them through the window. It was a relief to no longer feel wind against her face and noise in her ears. Her feet settled on the floor, and she reveled in the sensation of the flat, steady surface beneath her.

  “Welcome to the sixth floor,” Garrett said. He bent over, rested his hands on his knees, and sucked in a few deep breaths. “That was intense.”

  “Just imagine it from our point of view.” Jessie
straightened her suit, though she doubted even dry-cleaning could save it. Reggie, on the other hand, seemed to have finally had his fill of dressing up. He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it on the floor, then unknotted the tie, yanked it from his collar, and balled it up in his hand.

  “And I thought there was nothing scarier than the cell block shower room!” he said. “Damn!”

  The room was a twin of the jury deliberation room directly above them. There were two other deputies in the room with Garrett, and they both gaped at Jessie and Reggie. She didn’t know if she should feel like a hero or a freak. Not exactly a typical day at the office for any of us. But Reggie’s mention of cell blocks seemed to bring them back to the moment. One of them unclipped a set of handcuffs from his belt. “We need to take you into custody, Mr. Tuck.”

  “Are you shitting me? After all that? You’re not even going to give me a minute here?”

  Jessie felt his frustration, but she also understood that with their return to safety came a return of all of the other aspects of their ordinary world, including his incarceration. “You know they have to, Reggie. We’re alive and safe. That’s what matters.”

  “What about our deal?” Reggie said. His usually jovial eyes had a desperate look. “My early parole?”

  Jessie wished she could tell him that the DA’s Office would honor their arrangement, but she did not have that authority. Tyrone Nash was dead. There would be no trial, and therefore no testimony by Reggie. Their deal was moot. “I’m sorry. You need to go with the deputies. I’ll visit you as soon as I can.”

  “You’ll visit me?” His expression changed from desperate to angry.