Innocent Conspiracy_A Sam Prichard Mystery

by David Archer

  Morton’s office was on the fourth floor of the building, and it only took them a few minutes to make it to the top. Sam’s hip was screaming by then, but he didn’t take time to worry about it. The four of them crashed through the door onto the fourth floor hallway, guns aimed straight ahead of them.

  The hall was empty, so they started moving through it, checking each room as they passed. They made it to just outside of Morton’s office, and then all four of them pressed themselves against the wall.

  “Reynard!” Sam shouted. “Reynard, there’s no way out. Let the woman go and come out of there, now.”

  “Prichard? Is that really you?”

  “Damn right it is,” Sam called back. “You dared to try to hurt my family, you son of a bitch. You’re not getting away from me. Now throw down your weapons and come out, because if we come in, we shoot to kill.”

  “Of course you will,” Reynard said calmly. “However, bear in mind that I have hostages. There are three women in this room, and I shall kill each and every one of them if you attempt to come in.”

  “We know your reputation, remember? You kill everyone you possibly can when you’re trying to escape. We’re not going to fall for that, not this time. You come out, or you die. It is that simple.”

  Phwt! The sound of a silenced gunshot was heard, and then they heard women screaming. Sam felt like a sledgehammer in his gut, but he knew there was nothing else he could have done. Reynard could not be allowed to escape.

  “That was the first one,” Reynard said. “There are two to go. Now, I’m sure you’re not alone; you can try to rush me, but I will probably manage to kill at least some of you. If you wish to minimize the loss of life today, Prichard, then I suggest you put down your weapons and let me walk out of here.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Sam said. “If I hear another shot, your chance to survive this ends.”

  The screaming suddenly began again, and Sam rushed through the door. He was aiming his gun wildly, looking for a shot at Reynard, while the others followed behind him, but he was gone. A door to the right stood open, and Sam suddenly realized that Morton’s office adjoined Annie’s.

  He looked at the women in the room, and saw that all three of them seemed unhurt. Annie Porter was in the middle, hugging two other women who were weeping against her chest.

  “He was bluffing,” Sam said. “Denny, Darren, take the hallway. Steve, you’re with me.” He rushed into the adjoining office, but it was empty. The door to the hallway stood wide open, and Sam rushed out through it, only to find himself facing Denny and Darren.

  The stair door was just closing, and all four of them rushed toward it. Denny and Darren hurried ahead while Sam and Steve tried to keep up, but Reynard beat them to the ground floor. The stairway door was just closing as Denny and Darren reached it, and they pulled it carefully open only to have to duck back inside because of gunfire coming at them.

  Sam and Steve caught up then, and Sam yanked the door open and ran out without stopping. Reynard had already fled the building and was halfway across the wide concrete apron in front of it when Sam threw open the front door.

  “Reynard!” Sam screamed, and the killer spun and snapped off a shot in his direction. Sam ducked aside, feeling the wind as the bullet flew past his ear, then raised his gun and fired twice in rapid succession. Reynard hit the ground and rolled, coming up on his knees and firing towards Sam again just as the other three came rushing out. They all fired in Reynard’s direction, but he had managed to roll behind a planter, and their bullets merely bounced off.

  Limping hard, Sam started toward the planter, his gun held steadily out in front of him.

  “There is no escape, Reynard,” Sam shouted. “Throw out your gun and give it up. This is your last warning!”

  The van, sitting over to the side, suddenly opened. Harry Winslow stepped out and aimed his gun, his own view not blocked by the planter with its miniature tree. He squeezed off one shot, but missed, and Reynard turned and fired.

  “NOOOO!” Sam screamed as Harry fell. Reynard’s head was just above the planter, and he was staring toward Harry.

  “Winslow?” Reynard asked, incredulously. He raised his gun again, and Sam fired once more.

  Reynard’s head snapped to the side, and he turned toward Sam. The bullet had only grazed the back of his head, and he raised his gun once more, aiming directly at Sam, but then Sam, Denny, Steve, and Darren all began firing together.

  Reynard ducked behind the planter, but then he jumped and tried to run, heading straight towards the van. All four of the men fired, but he kept running. He had almost made it, he was just about to vanish behind the old van, when Sam fired his last round.

  Reynard suddenly stopped, his back arching and his hand reaching behind him. His knees collapsed and he went down, but he turned toward Sam and raised his gun one more time. Sam tried to squeeze his trigger, but his magazine was empty and the others leveled their weapons and fired.

  Reynard went down again, riddled with bullets. Sam hurried past him to where Harry lay while Denny and Darren approached Reynard. Denny kicked his weapon away from his hand, then holstered his own and rolled the man over. His sightless eyes stared upward, but they saw nothing.

  Sam collapsed next to Harry and put his hand over the bleeding hole in Harry’s chest. “Harry, dammit,” he said. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  “My job, Sam,” Harry gasped out. “I was doing my job.”

  Steve was standing over them, his phone in his hand as he called 911. Sam heard him tell them to hurry, but he was concentrating on Harry.

  “Your job was to watch Tom Linden,” Sam yelled. “Reynard was my job!”

  “Sam,” Harry said weakly, “you couldn’t hit him, and I thought I could. Guess my old eyes aren’t what they used to be. I missed, Sam. I never used to miss.” He tried to look down at his chest, but he couldn’t even raise his head. “Pretty bad, isn’t it? Don’t let it tear you up, Sam. I’ve had a good run, son, and I’ve got nothing to complain about.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Sam said. “You’re not going to die on me, I absolutely will not permit it! You just suck it up, you old bastard, you still got a lot of years ahead of you.”

  “Sam,” Harry said, his voice growing faint. “Sam, it’s okay. This is why I was here, Sam. Kathy told me to come and make sure you were safe, and I did. You tell her that, Sam, you tell her I did.”

  Harry’s eyes closed, and he took one more breath before his chest stopped moving. Sam felt his throat for a pulse, and didn’t find it, so he bent down and clamped his mouth over the old man’s and blew into his lungs. He popped up and started chest compressions, while Darren dropped down to take over breathing for him. Darren blew air into the old man’s lungs over and over, while Sam kept up a steady rhythm on his chest.

  The ambulance arrived three minutes later, and the paramedics took over. They loaded Harry onto a gurney and shoved him into the ambulance, with one of the paramedics continuing CPR as they raced away. The police were arriving by then, and Karen Parks showed up. Sam told Steve to handle the police report, turned Tom Linden over to Karen, and climbed into the driver’s seat of the van.

  Sam pushed the old truck for all it was worth and skidded to a stop just out of the way of the ER drive. He climbed out, wishing he had his cane, and hobbled his way up to the door. As he stepped inside, he could see a lot of activity in one of the exam rooms and knew that was where he would find Harry. He hurried as fast as he could, but the people in the room suddenly started filing slowly out as he got there.

  Sam shoved the curtain aside and stepped in, as he saw a doctor lifting a sheet up over Harry’s face.

  “Oh, no,” Sam said. “Don’t you dare give up on him. He’s not ready to go yet, that man is an American hero. You don’t stop, you keep going, do you hear me?”

  The doctor turned and looked at him. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I’m afraid he’s gone.”

  “No, he’s not,” Sa
m shouted. “I know, I know for a fact he’s not gone. You get back over there and you keep trying, you bring him back again. This world isn’t ready to be without Harry Winslow, you bring him back.”

  The doctor sighed, but he turned and pulled the sheet back down off of Harry. “He’s lost a lot of blood,” he said. “We were giving him blood, but his heart just won’t cooperate.”

  Sam pushed past the doctor to the head of the bed Harry was laying on, and leaned down beside his ear. “Harry? Harry, damn you, you listen to me. I am not going to explain to Kathy that you got yourself killed trying to play hero one last time. That is not going to happen, so you might as well just get your ass back inside this body and kickstart that heart of yours. And don’t you dare try to tell me you can’t do it, I know you better than that, remember?”

  He turned and looked at the doctor. “Well? What are you waiting for? Bring him back, now!”

  The doctor glared at him and shook his head, but he picked up the paddles. “Charging,” he said, and a moment later he said, “Clear!” He pressed the paddles down to Harry’s bare chest, there was a loud thump and Harry almost jumped off the bed.

  Beside Harry, the monitor continued its steady flat tone. Sam looked at the doctor. “Again.”

  The doctor adjusted the machine, then shouted, “Clear!” He slammed the paddles down on Harry’s chest once more, and Harry jumped again. The doctor stepped back and looked at the monitor, shaking his head, but then he stared as it began a weak rhythm.

  Sam was shoved aside as the doctors and nurses were suddenly frantically busy once again. He stood back, leaning against the wall, tears streaming down his face as he nodded his head over and over. “I knew it,” he said. “I knew you weren’t done yet, you old son of a bitch. You don’t get to check out, not yet, you don’t.”

  It took them an hour to get Harry stabilized, and by that time Sam had been pushed out of the exam room and was surrounded by his entire team, his wife and children, his mother and mother-in-law, and several local police officers. A number of the Windlass office staff and security guards were there, as well, so that the waiting room for the ER was overflowing.

  Sam kept looking back toward the exam room, and finally the doctor came out and walked toward him. Sam got to his feet and met the man in the middle of the floor.

  “He must be one hell of a man,” the doctor said. “The bullet had struck him in the heart, to one side of the left ventricle, and that should have been the end of it. If anyone else had ever told me a man could come back from that, I would’ve said they were crazy, but now I’ve seen it. We ended up taking the bullet out right there, and the damage to his heart will be repaired. I know who you are, Mr. Prichard, and to be honest that’s the only reason I kept trying, because you were demanding it. If you hadn’t, he would definitely be dead. As it is, he was dead for almost four full minutes.”

  “Will he…” Sam began, then he licked his lips and started again. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “Well, there is a risk of some brain damage, but I think it’ll be minimal. He wasn’t really without oxygen very long, so there’s a good chance he’ll come back and be his old self again. The biggest worry right now is his heart, but it’s in surprisingly good shape for a man of his age.” He reached out and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Prichard. Because of you, I’ve seen a miracle here today.”

  Sam nodded and wiped the tears away from his face. He turned and made his way back to his chair as the doctor went back to his duties, and suddenly he found his mother-in-law standing directly in front of him. There was something about her face, and Sam stopped and stared.

  “Beauregard?” Sam asked.

  Kim nodded. “Yes, Sam,” she said, in Beauregard’s voice. “You see? My visions were right after all.”

  “But Harry’s not dead,” Sam said. “He’s alive.”

  “Yes, he is,” Kim said. “And he has you to thank for that, Sam. You see, he was dead for a little while, there. His heart had stopped, and the doctors wrote him off as being without hope. But you didn’t. You refused to give up, or to let them give up, and that’s the only reason old Harry Winslow was able to find his way back. And now, the second vision will be true. One day soon, all of your friends and family will gather around you again. Alive.”

  Kim staggered and almost fell, and Sam caught her. She looked up into his face, and realization dawned. “Beauregard again?”

  “Yes,” Sam said. Indie stood beside him, and he reached out to put his arm around her. “Yes, it was Beauregard. He just wanted to tell me something I needed to hear.”

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  BOOK SEVENTEEN PREVIEW

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