Personal Justice

by Rayven T. Hill

  “I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t go anywhere.” He hung up, touched the gas and swerved around a slow-moving vehicle.

  Four minutes later, he pulled up in front of a small, clapboard house and looked around for Annie. She streaked out from behind a thick bush, opened the door, and got in.

  “Am I glad to see you,” she said.

  Jake grinned and leaned over while Annie kissed his grin. “Me too,” he said. “What happened?”

  The grin vanished from Jake’s face, replaced by a worried look as Annie told him in as few words as possible how Tammy had abducted her and how she escaped.

  “Did you call the police?” Jake asked.

  “Not yet. I called you first.” She reached for Jake’s phone and called Hank. Whenever the detective was available, going through him was always the fastest way to get things moving.

  “Hank will be here in a few minutes,” she said, after she spoke to the cop and hung up. “He’s sending some cruisers as well.”

  Jake explained about Geekly’s call, the search of Tammy’s house, and how Annie’s cell phone had been recovered.

  “She has to get rid of my car,” Annie said. “She might’ve returned to her house to get it.”

  “And when she finds a house full of police, and cruisers all over the street, she won’t stick around.”

  “Exactly,” Annie said. “Then she’ll have no choice. She’ll return here to finish me off.”

  Jake glanced through the windshield, then in the rear-view mirror. “We should get this car out of sight in case she comes back. We don’t want her to know you escaped.”

  He pulled from the curb, spun around, and drove to a side street. They got out and worked their way back, stopping beside a massive oak tree across the street from the house.

  Jake kept an eye in the direction he expected Tammy Norton to come from. “Do you know whose house that is?” he asked.

  “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. The phone was disconnected, and it seems to be vacant for one reason or another, although it’s still full of furniture. It’s been empty awhile, because she held her husband here before she killed him.”

  “She planned it well,” Jake said.

  “Almost well enough.”

  Jake took a step back and grabbed Annie by the arm, pulling her toward him. “I think she’s coming.”

  A dark-blue car came down the street. Jake squinted out from behind the tree. “It’s her.”

  The Ford slowed and turned into the driveway. The garage door wound upward, the car pulled in, and then the door closed.

  Jake looked up and down the street. The police were nowhere in sight.

  “She’s going to find out pretty quickly I’m gone,” Annie said. “As soon as she gets in the house, she’ll see the broken door.”

  Jake looked at Annie in alarm. “And then she’ll run, and they might never find her.”

  Annie glanced at the house then back at Jake. “We have to stop her.” She looked thoughtfully toward the house. “I think she has a plan. Someplace to go where it’s safe after she leaves here. She might disappear forever.”

  Jake ran the options through his head. They could go into the house and hope to overpower her. That was dangerous. She was armed. They could wait for the police. Not a great option. Maybe they could follow her in the Firebird. Not such a great plan, either.

  He looked at Annie. “Any ideas?” He could almost see Annie’s mind at work.

  “If we can’t stop her,” Annie said. “Maybe we can slow her down.”

  “How?”

  “Get your car,” she said, turning and racing toward their parked vehicle.

  Jake followed her, reached the Firebird, and they hopped inside. He started the car, the tires squealing as he spun it around.

  Annie sat forward in the front seat and pointed. “Drive to the house.”

  He hit the gas and the car surged forward and then slowed as he neared the house.

  “Pull into the laneway and park against the garage door.”

  Jake frowned.

  “It won’t hurt your baby. Just touch the door gently and stop. That’ll keep it from opening.”

  Jake wasn’t keen on the idea but it was a good plan. He pulled into the driveway, eased forward, and stopped, the front bumper firmly against the garage door.

  “We’d better get out of the car,” Annie said, opening the door. “She’s going to be as mad as a hornet when she finds out.”

  “Odds are, when the door doesn’t open, she’ll come out the back door of the garage to see what the problem is.”

  “Or maybe she’ll try to ram it.”

  That worried Jake. If Tammy tried to force her way through when the door didn’t open, it could cause damage to his vehicle. But it would be a small price to pay to capture a killer—one who had threatened his wife.

  “Okay. We’ve slowed her down,” Jake said. “Now what?”

  “We hope the police get here soon,” Annie said. “I’m fresh out of ideas.”

  Jake glanced down the street. There were no cars around. It had been several minutes since he called Hank, but the cop was nowhere in sight.

  He pulled out his cell phone and called the detective. “Where are you?” he asked, when Hank answered.

  “I’m about five minutes away,” Hank said. “I don’t know how close the cruisers are, but I told them to leave their sirens off. We don’t want to warn her.”

  Hank chuckled when Jake told him what they’d done to slow her down. “Get out of sight,” Hank said. “We’ll take care of her.”

  Jake hung up and spun around as an engine sounded from inside the garage. Tammy was leaving. The garage door motor hummed. The door shuddered and shook as the motor howled and worked uselessly. The door scraped up an inch and stopped. The motor died, then started it’s persistent whine again.

  Annie followed Jake and they jumped the hedge onto the neighbor’s lawn and crouched down out of sight. They watched as Tammy came from behind the garage, brandishing a pistol in one hand. She stopped short when she saw Jake’s car in the driveway.

  The killer spun around, glancing in all directions, her face flushed with anger. Then she opened the driver side door of the Firebird and looked inside, probably hoping to find the keys in the ignition.

  She slammed the door and looked toward the street, her brows in a tight, angry line.

  Jake knew Tammy had no way out except by foot. He looked around anxiously for Hank as the killer tucked the pistol into her waistband and started off on a steady jog down the street, moving away from where the Lincolns watched helplessly.

  Chapter 51

  Friday, 12:45 p.m.

  ANNIE WATCHED the woman who had kidnapped her and threatened their lives disappear down the sidewalk. She was getting away.

  “We have to follow her,” she said, looking at Jake. “Or she might be gone forever.”

  Jake frowned at Annie a moment, then nodded and stood to his feet. “Stay behind me,” he said, leaping into a jog.

  “Wait,” Annie called. “Give me your keys.”

  Jake stopped, turned back, and frowned as Annie caught up to him. “What for?”

  “I’m going to cut her off. I think I know where she’s headed.”

  Jake dug in his pocket, pulled out his key ring, and handed it over, a reluctant look on his face. “Be careful.”

  “Follow her,” Annie said, pointing up the sidewalk. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “I’ll call Hank,” Jake said. “I’ll stay on the line with him until he gets here.”

  Annie turned and raced back to the Firebird, hopping in. She had only driven the powerful machine a couple of times in the past. Usually, she let Jake do the driving, or used her own little Escort.

  But today, there was no choice.

  The engine roared when she turned the key. She dug for a lever below the seat, tugging it forward to accommodate her normal legs rather than Jake’s long ones.

  The gara
ge door shuddered and thumped as she put the vehicle in reverse and backed up carefully. She gave it a spurt of gas and the car leaped back, faster than she expected, and she was on the street, facing away from the direction the killer had fled.

  She knew Tammy would be desperate now, and desperate people do desperate things. The woman was in a panic, with no choice but to get out of the subdivision and get to Main Street as fast as possible.

  At least, that’s what Annie was counting on.

  Even at the rate Tammy was running, it would take her several minutes. Once there, Annie was afraid the killer would try to hijack a car. And if Tammy found herself cornered, it might end up as a hostage situation. That would put even more people in danger and must be avoided at all cost.

  Annie needed her plan to work.

  She spun the wheel, worked the car into low gear, and touched the gas, glancing in the rearview mirror as the car jumped forward. She saw Jake’s back, now almost out of view.

  She clung to the steering wheel, managed to find second gear, eased the clutch out, and took a quick right-hand turn without slowing down.

  A cruiser breezed past. At the speed she was going on a residential street he undoubtedly would’ve pulled her over under normal circumstances. But today, she was sure the pair of cops inside the vehicle were intent on apprehending a killer, a little too late to do any good.

  Main Street wasn’t far ahead. She counted on a modest flow of traffic in this part of town during the day.

  Annie was familiar with the streets in the neighborhood, in fact, her knowledge of the city could put any taxi driver to shame. She planned to use that knowledge now.

  She touched the brakes lightly, slowed at a stop sign to avoid a pedestrian, and then swung onto Main. She spun the steering wheel to the left, cut to the inside lane, and whipped around a slow moving vehicle. She was making good time and expected to have time to spare—but not much. Every second could count.

  Her destination lay just ahead—just a few more moments.

  Annie pushed in the clutch, hit the brakes hard, pulled to the curb, and stopped. She turned off the engine, leaving the key ring dangling from the ignition as she jumped out and raced toward the corner of the next street.

  She stopped outside the doorway of a flower shop, two feet from the corner of the building. If she had judged this right, her quarry would appear directly in front of her shortly.

  She eased to the corner, chanced a quick peek around, and then pulled her head back.

  The killer was coming, working her way up the sidewalk toward Main Street. Her pace had slowed, she was tiring, her head drooped from exhaustion, but she would be here in a few seconds. Jake was nowhere in sight. Annie suspected he was behind, staying well out of the woman’s view.

  Annie bent her knees slightly, braced her feet, tensed her leg muscles, and waited.

  The moment Tammy Norton came into view, Annie leaped forward and broadsided her, bearing her to the sidewalk. Tammy fell hard onto her back, caught by surprise and momentarily stunned, allowing Annie to straddle her.

  Annie attempted to hold the killer’s arms down, but Tammy wrenched one free and reached to her back, going for the weapon. Annie grasped the deadly woman by the wrist and the pistol spun across the sidewalk, out of reach.

  Tammy lay on her back and clawed like a wildcat, snarling through gritted teeth as she scratched and scraped to break loose from Annie’s grasp. There were no rules as the battle continued. The killer raked at Annie with her nails, and heaved from side to side in a desperate attempt to free herself.

  Three or four pedestrians gathered to watch and cheer, not making a move to retrieve the weapon or aid in the struggle.

  The killer outweighed Annie by a good twenty pounds, and the element of surprise was gone, but Annie held on. She must persevere until Jake arrived.

  Each of the combatants were filled with a determination of their own—the killer to escape, Annie to stop a cold-blooded murderer.

  Tammy’s longer arms reached Annie’s throat, and her fingers tightened in a death grip. Annie fought for air, struggling to loosen the clutching hands.

  From the corner of her eye, Annie saw Jake, fifty feet away, tearing up the sidewalk. In a few more seconds, it would be all over.

  Then with a desperate move, the killer released her grasp on Annie’s throat, heaved and rolled to one side, broke loose, and dived for the weapon. Annie came to a crouch. Tammy spun back, resting on one knee, the pistol in her hand.

  The killer gritted her teeth. “Stay there or I’ll kill you now.”

  Annie spread her arms in surrender and rose slowly to her feet, taking a step back. Off to her right, Jake came to a quick stop. “Tammy Norton,” he called.

  Tammy spun in his direction and came to her feet, the pistol gripped in both hands, her eyes sighting down the barrel. “Stay back,” she screamed. “I’ll shoot both of you and I won’t miss.”

  One onlooker fled, the other two backed off, while still others gathered from a safe distance.

  Annie’s back was to the street, the possibility of innocent bystanders behind her. She took two steps to the right, a brick wall now at her back, as the killer spun toward her.

  “Put the gun down, Tammy,” Jake said.

  Tammy glanced frantically in Jake’s direction and kept the weapon trained on Annie.

  A moment later, a brown Chevy squealed to a stop on the other side of the narrow street. Hank sprang out and came to a shooting position, his weapon in his hand.

  “Police. Drop the gun!”

  Tammy whirled to face Hank, her weapon poised, desperation now in her eyes.

  Hank sighted carefully. “Drop the gun or I’ll shoot.”

  The killer held the weapon firmly in both hands as she circled, training the gun on Annie, then Jake, and finally back to Hank. Her eyes flared red, her face flushed with anger.

  Hank took a careful step forward, his eyes on Tammy’s face, his weapon never wavering. “It’s over. Drop it now before somebody gets hurt.”

  Tammy stared wild-eyed down the sights toward Hank, her jaw clenched. Then her finger tightened on the trigger and she dropped to a crouch, a shot exploding from her weapon.

  Hank dropped at the same moment and fired once.

  An onlooker screamed as Tammy’s arms fell to her side and her eyes bulged. The gun slipped from her hand, bounced on the concrete, and remained still. The killer buckled to the sidewalk beside her weapon.

  Annie dashed over, kicked the gun aside, and knelt down beside Tammy. She looked into the face of the killer, the woman’s cold, hard eyes now softening, then slowly glazing over, then closing as the last breath escaped from her lungs.

  Hank’s shot had found its mark. The hole through the killer’s heart ensured she would kill no more.

  Epilogue

  Friday, 4:40 p.m.

  JAKE SIGNED his name at the bottom of his statement and turned to Annie. She had finished with hers some time ago and now leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed, waiting patiently for Jake.

  “Done,” he said, picking up Annie’s statement and scanning it. Annie opened her eyes and sat forward as Jake shuffled the two pages together and handed them to Hank.

  The cop looked up from his mound of paperwork, took the statements from Jake, and added them to his stack.

  “Paperwork always ensures an exciting case comes to a tedious close,” Hank said. “Sometimes it takes longer to document the case than it took to solve it.”

  Jake grinned. “That’s what you get for being a cop. We’re not hampered by such mundane details. A quick police statement, fill out an invoice, and case closed.”

  “And you’re not hampered by having to shoot anyone,” Hank added. “That always makes the wrap-up twice as painful.”

  “And twice as sad,” Annie said. “It was unfortunate Tammy was too stubborn to surrender, even when she knew she couldn’t win.”

  “Suicide by cop,” Hank said. “To some, it’s the easy way out o
f an impossible situation. Rather than face life in prison, they choose to end it all.”

  Hank looked up as King strolled over to the desk carrying Annie’s handbag. “That suits you well,” Hank said with a chuckle. “You should get yourself one.”

  King ignored Hank and gave the bag to Annie. He held up a digital recorder and handed a sheet of paper to Hank. “Here’s some more papers for you, Hank. I had Annie’s recording transcribed.”

  Hank took the transcription, scanned it, and whistled. “It’s all here,” he said, looking at Annie. “Tammy’s complete confession. That was quick thinking in a desperate situation on your part.”

  “How’d you manage that?” Jake asked.

  Annie shrugged. “After Geekly called me, I put my cell in my handbag and flicked the recorder on. Tammy took my cell phone, as you know, but missed the recorder, so I pumped her for as much information as I could get. Then I hid it in the trunk of the car for safekeeping, and there you have it.”

  “That’ll save me a lot of headaches pinning all this on her,” Hank said. “And it should clear Rocky Shaft of murder charges.”

  King laughed. “And to show you that bad guys finish first, the crown isn’t going to charge Shaft for assaulting Lisa Krunk.”

  “I suspect that’s because they have a weak case.” Hank chucked. “And the fact Lisa has been none too kind to law enforcement in the past might have something to do with their decision.”

  “You’re probably right,” King said. “And Lisa won’t pursue charges because she made a deal with Shaft for his complete story and an interview.”

  “So everybody wins,” Jake said.

  “Everybody but the dead people,” King said, leaning on the edge of the desk and crossing his arms. “Forensics is still going over the car, but so far, they found blood stains in the trunk, and I’m sure when it’s analyzed, it’ll prove to belong to her husband.”

  “I’m not sure if there’s any way to prove it,” Hank said thoughtfully. “But I suspect the bruises on Tammy Norton were not because her husband beat her, but rather from a life and death struggle with him.”