Everything was riding on King’s theory. It was the best conclusion they could come up with. The clock was ticking down and no one knew what Chandler would do once he learned that the entire police force was coming after him. He could kill Sam, Mason too, or take them hostage. Anything was possible, but only one thing was certain. The department was out for blood—frothing at the mouth for an opportunity to take down the cop killer who’d murdered their brothers in blue.
Erin closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. Her heart told her Samantha was still alive, but until she reunited with her friend, there was always a chance she could be wrong.
King slid a bulletproof vest over her head, the Velcro ripping as he adjusted the straps. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked her.
Erin peeled her heavy eyelids open and licked her dry lips as she nodded.
“At any point you feel uncomfortable, just lay down on the ground behind a car and wait for help to arrive. Got it?”
Erin swallowed a difficult breath and muttered, “Got it.”
King gave her shoulder a firm squeeze and stepped back, opening the trunk. Erin watched King arm himself with extra cartridges of ammunition, holster his handgun, and load up his tactical rifle. King slammed the trunk shut and said, “Let’s roll.”
Alvarez was already waiting in the driver’s seat when Erin took the front seat with King piling into the back.
“Just got word that Chandler has a black Honda Civic registered in his name.”
“All right. Keep your eyes peeled,” King said as they all began the search.
The wheels rolled at a fast clip as they exited the Conoco gas station and headed north on Tower Road. It wasn’t long before Erin spotted Chandler’s car.
“That’s it, all right,” Alvarez said as he slowed the car down to read the plate.
Erin tipped her head back and scanned the landfill horizon. It was the only significant elevated land in the area and she knew Chandler was up there with her friend.
Alvarez drove to the backside of the landfill and dropped King off in a place he could confidently jump the fence.
“Don’t play hero,” Alvarez reminded his partner.
“Just show yourself long enough for him to want to take a shot. Hopefully, by then, I’ll have him in sight and can stop him before he pulls the trigger.”
Alvarez nodded and King slammed the back door shut. Alvarez spun the wheel and sped back to the parking lot in search of Erin’s car with King sprinting toward the wired fence.
“This is crazy, right?” Erin asked Alvarez.
Alvarez flicked a quick knowing glance in her direction but said nothing. Once at the parking lot entrance, Alvarez punched the button, took the ticket, and immediately turned the car east.
Erin pushed herself up in her seat. She looked for her car among the hundreds of others. Like searching for a needle in a haystack, they had to put themselves in Chandler’s shoes.
“This side of the parking lot gives him the clearest shot.”
“If he’s on top of the landfill.” Erin’s nerves fluttered her stomach. They could have this all wrong.
“He’s up there. We saw his car.”
“There.” Erin pointed at her car. It was parked between a black SUV and a red pickup truck.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She felt like she was being watched—was certain Chandler had them in his crosshairs and at any time could take them out. They knew he was a great shot. They also knew he was out for blood.
“Stay down,” Alvarez said. It was the first time she could hear the uncertainty quaking his voice. It wasn’t much, just enough to make her second guess what the hell she was doing. “If I get shot,” he said as he slowly approached and parked behind her car, “hide, and stay hidden until backup arrives. No sense in getting you killed, too.”
Chapter Seventy-Six
King landed soundly on both feet after climbing the fence and he hit the ground running. He kept one hand firmly gripped around the handle of his rifle while the other pumped and was used for balance as he scurried up the slippery grass slope.
Keeping his head down, nothing was on his mind except bringing Mason and Samantha home safely. That was all that mattered. Chandler would receive his day of judgement one way or the other. Whether it be today, or a year from now, justice would find him. King would make sure of it.
He slipped again on loose rock but kept scrambling up the hillside.
King’s lungs burned and his heart drummed but nothing could slow him down. Not today, not with Samantha’s and Mason’s lives on the line. King would do whatever it took to make sure this ended well. The very real fear of losing everything he loved kept him focused on making sure that didn’t happen.
Keeping his head down, King searched the fields he could see. He looked to the ground for tracks or any signs they might be near.
Nothing.
He kept climbing.
The earth crumbled beneath his feet and it didn’t take him long to reach the ridge. There, he stopped and crouched down low. Hiding behind the grass, he could hear soft murmurs of voices nearby. Adrenaline opened his veins. They were here. Not far. It was definitely Samantha’s voice.
She was alive.
Slowly, he stood with both hands on his rifle. His eyes popped when he caught sight of them less than one hundred yards away—the wind was to their backs and they were looking in the opposite direction. Picking the soles of his shoes off the ground, King approached from behind and quickly noticed there were only two of them.
He paused, held his breath, and swiftly assessed who was who.
Samantha was on the ground—her hands tied or cuffed behind her back.
Chandler lay prone behind his sniper rifle only five feet away from her.
Mason. Where was Mason?
Fear wrapped its lasso around his heart. He snapped his jaw shut, lifted his rifle, and aimed it on Chandler’s head. He wanted to make sure he didn’t miss if he had to use deadly force.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
I slithered over the lumpy ground like a rattlesnake intent on striking.
“Come any further and I’ll put this bullet in your head,” Chandler said without looking.
Not willing to risk my own life on a theory based off assumption, I stopped. Chandler didn’t move. He kept peering through his rifle scope’s glass. I wanted to know what he was glassing, who had come, if it was only Erin, or Erin and King.
Arching my back, I lifted my chin and squinted into the low angle light hoping to see what Chandler was seeing. It was too far. There was too much tall grass that stood in my way.
“What are you going to do after you take your shot?” I asked.
Chandler kept quiet.
“You might have escaped capture after you murdered the others, but that was before you had me.”
“Who says I’m planning to take you with me?” Chandler’s words were muffled by the breeze.
“I am.”
“And why would I do that?”
I had Chandler talking and that was a good thing. Either he didn’t have a shot, or no one had come yet. “To have a bargaining chip,” I continued, distracting his focus. “Use me as collateral. You want to keep me because I know things you don’t.”
“Shut up!” he snapped.
I gasped and felt my heart surge into my throat. My eyes went back to fighting through the grass, trying to see what he was looking at. The grass kept moving back and forth like wipers on a windshield and, through the blur, I somehow managed to find Erin’s car. Two people were spinning in circles nearby. It had to be Erin and King.
“Your blonde friend looks afraid.”
I regretted ever calling her. “She didn’t do anything to you,” I argued.
“No. She didn’t.” Chandler’s words were too calm for me to feel comfortable. “And it would be such a waste to see her go, but…” Chandler checked the wind, adjusted a few dials on his scope and I held my breath just as I heard someone screa
m for Chandler to put his hands in the air.
Hope inflated my lungs.
Panic filled my chest.
All hell broke loose when Chandler dropped his left shoulder, rolled on his side, and pointed his handgun at the man marching directly toward us.
A shot popped off and I screamed.
A deep tremor quaked in my bones as I watched Chandler’s head explode.
He lay limp on his shooter’s mound with his brain splattered in a thick fan on the grass in front of me. I blinked and hyperventilated as I looked around. The air had been knocked out of me. I was completely vulnerable having my hands cuffed behind my back.
Rolling around, I kicked and flailed in the dirt, ignoring the pain. When I turned, I saw a dark silhouette running directly for me. He had broad shoulders and was carrying a rifle. Through my muffled ears, I heard my name being called.
King.
Tears filled my eyes. “You came. Oh, thank God you came.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, still pointing the muzzle of his rifle at Chandler’s lifeless body.
My neck released and my head fell back into the dirt. I nodded and started to cry.
King confirmed Chandler’s death before turning his attention to me. “Sam, where is Mason?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“Did Chandler have him?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure.”
King gently pulled me up into the sitting position. He brushed the dirt off my face and dabbed at the blood drying from the cut above my eyebrow. “We have to get you out of here. Did Chandler put these cuffs on you?”
Nodding, I told King where I saw Chandler hide the handcuff keys.
King dug them out of Chandler’s pants pocket and released me. As soon as my hands were free, I flung my arms around his neck. My body trembled as he held me. All my emotions poured out of me. I wished he hadn’t shot Chandler. He might have known where Mason was. But, if King hadn’t taken the shot, Chandler would have killed him.
King pulled me to my feet, wrapped his arm around my waist, and walked me down the steep slope. I wouldn’t have been able to walk without his support. My legs barely kept me upright.
He put a call in to Alvarez to come pick us up—told him that it was over, Chandler was dead. We left Chandler on top of the landfill for the investigators and coroner to come clean up the body and, by the time we were at the road, Alvarez was pulling the car to the side with Erin jumping out and running directly toward me.
She slammed into my chest and wrapped her arms around my neck, nearly knocking me over. My face dug into the hard protective vest she was wearing as she told me how happy she was that I’d made it out alive.
“Mason is still missing,” I said, shock still sending shivers through my body.
Erin pulled back, her eyes shining. “They found him, Sam. Mason is alive and well.”
“What? Where?” My mind spiraled out of control. I was relieved, excited, and totally confused. How did this happen?
“A patrol unit picked him up in the neighborhood where the Morris family lives.” Erin cupped my face inside her palms and smiled. “I can’t wait to hear what he was doing over there.”
“I’m going to ground that boy.”
Erin laughed. “He’s on his way here now. Oh, and we found this in the parking lot.” She handed me my phone. “I knew you shouldn’t have gone alone.”
Sirens wailed in the air and soon the road was blocked with a dozen squad cars. Teams of investigators climbed the landfill and got statements from both King and me. By the time I was finished, I stepped back to Erin and said, “Nancy Jordan finally responded.”
“A little too late.” Erin rolled her eyes.
“Maybe not.”
Erin looked to me and raised both her eyebrows.
“The ten grand donation given to the victim’s fund, guess who wrote the check?” Erin’s lips rounded. “Croft.”
“No way.”
I nodded. “Would explain why he wanted to keep it anonymous.”
“Except Croft still didn’t do anything to ease the tension.”
I shrugged, folded my arms across my chest, and rested my tailbone on the hood of King’s unmarked cruiser next to Erin. “There are just some people I will never understand.”
A black SUV arrived and was surrounded by two other unmarked police cruisers. We watched it with great curiosity, hoping Mason was inside. Lieutenant Baker was the first to step out. We made eye contact as he moved to the front of the vehicle and then the opposite back door opened and my son emerged.
I ran over to him. Sweeping him up into my arms, I squeezed him tight. “What were you doing in the Morris’s neighborhood?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I just thought maybe I could comfort Tim’s parents.”
“Jesus.” I stroked the back of his head with my hand. “You need to start letting someone know your plans.”
“My phone died.”
I pulled back and locked my eyes with his. They were young and worried and I didn’t have it in me to stay angry at him. He was alive, and so was I. That was all that mattered.
Lieutenant Baker made his way to me. When I saw him coming, I told Mason to go talk with Erin. “I didn’t mean for it to work out like this,” I said.
“The outcome is favorable. You did good work, Samantha.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant.”
“Though I would prefer if you didn’t write up your story until after our investigation is complete.” He winked.
“I might be able to hold off for a little while.” I smirked.
“I spoke with Markus Schneider.” Lieutenant narrowed his eyes and stared. “You know what he asked me?”
I shook my head no. It could have been anything. Markus seemed to know everyone’s secrets.
“To forgive him.” Lieutenant flicked his gaze and I watched him sweep his eyes up the hillside behind me.
“He knew Pastor Michaels lied under oath,” I said.
“And now the pastor is having that conversation with God.”
I swallowed the lump that had lodged its way into my throat and felt a cold shiver send shock waves throughout my body.
“I’d prefer it if you kept that part out of your story as well.”
“You can’t hide from the truth.”
“No. We can’t.” He paused. “Markus told us everything, Samantha.” Lieutenant held my eyes inside of his. “Including his visit with Kenneth Wayne.”
“Did he tell you why he went to visit him? Chandler Davis also visited him,” I said, pointing to where I’d last seen Chandler.
“Markus wanted to make peace with all the people involved during that time.”
“And you believe him?”
“Is there reason I shouldn’t?”
I licked my lips, unable to find one.
“Yes.” His words were firm and authoritative. “I believe that Markus came back with good intention. It’s our theory that Kenneth Wayne saw Chandler as his opportunity to finally seek revenge and Markus gave us enough evidence to support that theory as well. It will all be written in the report and I’ll make sure that you’re one of the first to see it outside the department.”
I glanced toward Mason talking to Erin and watched King make his approach. I turned back to the Lieutenant and asked, “Are there any other known links to the Patriots of God still out there, waiting to pick up arms and continue the fight?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I guess it’s over then.”
“For the record, Gavin was one of the best cops I have ever known.”
“Thank you,” I whispered as I watched Lieutenant step away, promising to be in touch soon. King and Mason walked over to me and I hooked each of my hands onto them, saying, “Let’s go home.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Five months later…
I was tuck
ed away in the back dank smelling corner of our pathetic newsroom, hoping to find inspiration for my next story when slowly my thoughts drifted to the morning of the school shooting.
A cold shiver reminded me of the sick feeling I had when rushing to the school. A warm bloom spread across my chest when I remembered how I felt the moment I knew both Mason and King had made it out alive. I would never forget the terror or relief.
There was nothing more satisfying than knowing I had helped the police solve the Chandler Davis sniper case but, with every high, there was a deep and lingering low.
Unfortunately, that low for me happened to come today.
My eyes flicked up to my computer screen. The curser on my blank Word document continuously flashed, challenging me to question and doubt everything I had accomplished as a journalist up until this point.
After Chandler’s arrest, the police department granted me first access to their internal report as promised. I kept my word with Lieutenant Baker and told Pastor Dwayne Michaels’s story and possible reason for being targeted by Chandler without ever mentioning his false testimony against Kenneth Wayne. I thought long and hard about that and, in the end, I liked how the Lieutenant had phrased it; Pastor Michaels could have that conversation with God. His life was over. It was better to keep his legacy intact as a way to heal the deeply divided community.
And deeply divided the community had remained. The damage that Chandler had inflicted was deep, reigniting old wounds that would take time to heal. Many months and an independent investigation later, the department was cleared of any wrongdoing in Dennis Hall’s cold-blooded murder.
But that didn’t reverse the damaged relationship and lack of trust the public felt toward the police. It was clear that that was exactly Chandler’s plan all along, and there was still plenty that needed to be done to undo his work.
I turned my head away and nibbled on my fingernail. Sitting here was useless. I had nothing. No story that inspired me, and certainly nothing as exciting as the sniper case. Deep inside, I held a secret of my own. After solving two big cases back to back, I suddenly found myself addicted to the danger and excitement those stories brought me. Not only did I find King to be a friend and a partner, but I was rediscovering myself. These stories made me feel alive. They filled me with a sense of purpose beyond measure, and I was due for another big one.
Bell Hath No Fury Page 27