by Matt Hilton
Night had descended as if a blanket had been draped over the sun, but she could still make out the landscape and recognised the mushroom-shaped mountain Hunter had led her past earlier. Travelling at this speed, her life could be counted in minutes. Before long the ranch would come into view and soon after she’d be thrown down at the feet of the murderous family. She couldn’t just sit there and allow Lewin to deliver her to her prospective murderers. But what could she do?
‘Officer, please! You must know how insane this is?’
‘Shut up!’ Lewin slapped a palm against the Perspex.
‘You’re a police officer, for God’s sake!’
‘I was. But that’s over now, isn’t it? God damn it! Shut the hell up and let me think.’
‘Yes. Think. Think about what you are doing. You can’t go through with this. Can’t you see?’
‘I said shut the hell up!’
‘It’s not too late to save yourself.’
‘You’re not concerned for me. All you’re thinking of is saving your own worthless life. Now, for the last time, shut up, or I’ll stop the car right now and shoot you myself.’
‘Please!’
Jay’s plea was drowned out by a string of curses, the force of which was savage enough to push her down in her seat. Lewin was so frightened that she was sure he was on the verge of going through with his threat. She clamped down on her next words, turned her face so that he wouldn’t be able to view her in his mirrors. She didn’t want him to see her weeping. Ridiculous as it was, she didn’t want to be perceived as pitiful: if she was going to die it would be with a challenge in her stance. She’d tried reasoning with him, so it was time for something else. She must fight back. But what was she going to do when her hands were linked by steel cuffs? She couldn’t think like that. When she’d been imprisoned in the box she’d been in a far more precarious position than she was now. She’d managed to escape then, and though Hunter had later helped, she was sure that she would have done all right relying solely on her own wits.
When Officer Lewin had thrown her inside the radio car, he had been thinking like a criminal, not an officer of the law. That very fact had served her well, because there was something about her that the man did not know. It was her only chance for escaping his clutches and launching a counterattack against his kinsmen. If she was to die in the process, then so be it. She’d grown the balls her dad advocated, and she sure as hell was going to use them rather than let the men have their own way. With her head dipped for another reason now, she slipped her chained wrists around her side, concealing her movements with her body. Occasionally she glanced up, but Lewin was heedless of her, still lost in the panic in his own mind. Good, she thought, keep on panicking and let me prepare myself. Suddenly he demanded her attention: he flicked on the bar lights on the roof of the car and, if anything, sped up as he neared the ranch buildings. The light play of different hues danced across the desert floor, giving the landscape a surreal cast. He was announcing his arrival to his family, maybe via a prearranged signal. She was loath to look, but she twisted her head so she could press her cheek to one of the windows. Within a couple of hundred yards of the ranch the buildings were reflecting the gumball lights and it took a moment for her to differentiate one flickering shadow from the next.
Lewin grunted something she failed to catch, though it was definitely an oath. He began to slow down, but at the last second span the car to the left, and the movement flung her across the seat. Jay was struggling back up when he braked, dust clouds whirling and conspiring with the lights to block her view. Still, she saw the figure come out of the door of the main house, holding a revolver over his head. The gun was upside down, hanging by one finger through the trigger guard. He showed the gun to Lewin, and then bent slowly to place it on the floor of the porch. The dust and the strobe-like effect of the lights made the figure judder in her vision, but she was certain it wasn’t one of the Logans. It was Joe Hunter.
Her benefactor was stepping out, trusting that it was safe to relinquish his weapon now that the police had arrived on the scene. Officer Lewin was already getting out of the car, and Jay saw him snap his service pistol out of its holster. Lewin twisted so that he was leaning over the top of his door, his gun aimed directly at Hunter’s chest. ‘Police!’ he yelled. ‘Stand still and show me both hands.’
Hunter lifted his open palms. He took a step away from the revolver and then set his hands on the top of his head. He stood stock still, returning Lewin’s gaze. ‘Everything’s OK now, Officer. It’s over with.’
‘Not yet it isn’t.’
Jay heard Lewin’s whisper, but no way could Hunter have. Lewin leaned into the door further, and Jay knew what was coming next.
She’d never doubted Hunter’s word. He promised her he’d return to the ranch and free Nicole and Ellie. It looked like he’d done exactly that, but to what effect when he was now stuck there like a sitting duck while Lewin was lining him up for a killing shot? She could see it now, a bullet punching into his chest, knocking him down on the stoop of the house, never to rise again. With Hunter dead, what hope would the three women have then? She could not let that happen. Her screech was wordless and high-pitched, but it was all the warning she could summon.
Before the scream had tailed off she heard the bang of Lewin’s pistol. She jerked her head, as if she’d the supersonic power to follow the trajectory of the bullet, but she had no hope of that. Before her head was even halfway to the target she saw in her peripheral vision Hunter falling to the ground, and the timbre of her scream changed from one of defiance to one of despair. Her head continued to track, her eyes widening, expecting to see the splash of blood as Hunter rebounded off the deck.
But that wasn’t how it happened.
Hunter wasn’t falling. He was in a controlled drop, both knees spreading wide as he squatted low and to one side. His hands had dropped from his head: one out to the side to steady him, the other thrusting under the tail of his shirt. In a blur his hand came out from under his shirt, swung up and she saw the flash of his return shot a second before the sound wave hit the car. Again she could not follow the play of gunfire, but she heard the corresponding whack of Hunter’s bullet strike Lewin. Lewin gasped, cursed and then staggered back to place the car firmly between him and Hunter. His body was jammed up against the window next to her face, and she saw where Hunter’s bullet had struck his Kevlar vest. Lewin fired back, yelling something animalistic, even as he reached for the handle of her door. She guessed what he was thinking, and this time she was right. He tore the door open and reached for her, intent on using her as a shield against Hunter’s bullets.
No way was she going to let that happen. Jay threw herself across the back seat, kicking at his arms as he reached for her. Lewin was too distracted, trying to watch where Hunter was, and her heel painfully struck his forearm. He swore, yanking his arm out of the way. The respite was momentary, because he then swung his gun hand inside to take its place. ‘I don’t need you out of the fucking car to kill you,’ he yelled.
His words were meant for the two of them, and if they didn’t work on Hunter she would never know if she didn’t do something now.
Jay lunged across the seat, pulling out of concealment the knife that Hunter had given her hours earlier. She had it clasped between both fists, the blade spearing towards Lewin’s arm. Lewin couldn’t watch them both at the same time, and she was certain that he’d be more intent on a gunman than a seemingly helpless woman. But then, she wasn’t always right.
The boom of Lewin’s pistol sounded like an atomic detonation within the confines of the car.
26
Something had been troubling me for some time and it seemed that my suspicions were correct. I recalled the first occasion I’d met Officer Lewin at the burned-out husk of Peachy’s gas station. Then I’d thought him a good man, someone who could help, but in his words there’d been a note of warning, and also one of suspicion. When he’d allowed Helena Blackstock’s name
to slip into our conversation a flicker of unease had passed across his features. At the time I’d decided he was inwardly berating himself for admitting that there was a problem with missing women within his jurisdiction, but I knew otherwise now and it went deeper than that. Scott Blackstock said the police had visited the Logan ranch and their search had come up empty. Well, the cop responsible must have been blind, because the chains in the barn weren’t a new addition and it was clear what they were used for. More likely the cop knew about the Logans and their unhealthy fascination with certain women and had turned a blind eye.
On first arrival at the ranch I’d conducted the shortest of searches and discovered the barn, the lean-to where Jameson Walker’s SUV was hidden, and the pit where Jay had been chained. The SUV wouldn’t have been a factor when Helena went missing, but there sure as hell hadn’t been a search conducted here since the gas station robbery. Considering that the Logans were known as the local hellraisers any cop worth his salt would have paid them a visit; and seeing as this was Lewin’s neighbourhood, it stood to reason that it should have been within his remit.
I’d no idea what hold the Logans had over him, but I could make a good guess. Recalling that ninety-five per cent of the local population was Navajo, it made sense that of the remainder a proportion would have family ties. Was it a stretch to think that the Lewin and Logan clans were not far removed? Made me wonder about Carson’s wife, and what her maiden name had been.
It was a pity that I hadn’t formed this opinion until after I’d sent Jay to fetch the police, and it had only firmed in my mind once I saw the reaction from Nicole when I told her what I’d done. I had intended asking Nicole about that reaction but too many things had taken precedence and it had slipped my mind; now I wondered if she’d overheard the Logans discussing their law enforcement ally.
Everything I’d considered could have been bullshit, but over the years I’d learned to trust my senses. As I saw the cruiser speeding towards me I made a snap decision: I shoved the semi-automatic I’d liberated from Carson into my waistband. The Smith and Wesson I dangled from my finger, offering the approaching cop no threat. Then I’d placed it on the porch and stood away from it, assuming the position with my hands laced on my head. For all I knew, I was totally off track, and couldn’t even be sure that it was Lewin who’d responded.
Next second, the young fair-haired cop threw open his door, and, using the cruiser as a shield, he targeted me. That wasn’t unusual and wasn’t what told me that he intended shooting first and asking questions later. It was the rage in his face. My presence on the doorstep could mean only one thing, especially considering the gun I’d just put down: the Logans were no longer a threat to me. Ergo, I’d killed them. And he was now the only one left to resolve the terrible situation.
I couldn’t see Jay, but I heard her scream. I was already moving by then, dropping out of Lewin’s line of fire and going for the semi-auto at the small of my back. Lewin’s shot went over my left shoulder and through the open door, striking something metallic inside the house. The spang! of the spent bullet was echoed by my return shot. At this distance I’d no option but to aim for his centre of mass, most of which was concealed by the cruiser. Nevertheless I watched Lewin respond by rearing away and twisting his body so that he could check where my bullet had struck his anti-ballistic vest. Like many US cops, he wore his vest beneath his uniform shirt, but I’d been under no illusions that it was there. My shot hadn’t been designed to kill, merely to stop him killing me while I was out in the open.
He snapped his gaze my way, just as I vaulted off the porch and ran at an angle towards the cover of the Dodge pick-up. ‘Bastard! I’ll kill you!’ His yell came out as an hysterical scream, and he fired at me. Again his shot went wide and I threw myself down at the far side of the pick-up, placing the wheel hubs and engine block between us.
For a couple of seconds I had no line of sight, but it was a fair trade considering the cover it offered. I took the respite to eject the magazine and check the load. Carson had been shooting wildly, and judging by the weight there weren’t that many shells left in the gun. In fact, only two bullets remained, one of them already in the breech. I’d .357s in my pockets, but this mag wasn’t chambered for them. Crap. Never mind, I’d just have to make them count. One thing I was sure of: I wouldn’t be aiming for his bulletproof vest next time.
‘I don’t need you out the fucking car to kill you.’
Lewin’s shout wasn’t only for Jay’s ears. He’d yelled loud enough that I knew what he intended, and it wasn’t to warn me that he was about to kill her. He was trying to draw me into the open again. If he shot Jay there and then, what leverage would he have against me?
I didn’t concern myself with his bullshit at first, because I didn’t think it was an immediate threat. But then I heard Jay screaming again and I dodged around the back of the pick-up. Lewin was so incensed with rage – or fear – that he wasn’t acting in a rational way. He was grappling with her, leaning inside the car and, for a long enough time, his attention wasn’t on me. I kept low, running towards the rear of the cruiser.
Bang!
Lewin’s gun went off and the rear of the car lit up like a match had been struck. Then all was dark again and I could no longer hear Jay. Not necessarily because she couldn’t speak, but for the fact Lewin’s scream was deafening. He reared up and away from the back compartment, and his left hand was busy trying to pluck a knife out from between the biceps and triceps muscles of his right arm.
I went over the back of the car in a hurdle and slide, landing on my feet beside him. Lewin’s face was a picture of shock, both at the stabbing and at my sudden appearance. His reaction was far from considered, and maybe if he’d acted differently he’d have found a way out of this alive. But he swung his gun on me. I wanted answers, yes, but not at the expense of my life, or that of any of the girls. I shot him, point blank between the eyes.
The impact didn’t knock him flying like you see in the movies; his body merely dropped directly in front of me, collapsing like a house of cards. He ended up propped within the open door and the sill, his knees one way, his arms the other. There wasn’t much left of his head to talk about.
Cop Killer.
The notion struck me, a cold sliver of steel that drove right through my guts.
There was going to be a shit storm over this. No doubt about it.
I looked down at the corpse and thought, No. This piece of crap was no police officer. A uniform didn’t make him a good man. It’s what was in his brain and his heart that defined him, and he was no cop. He was almost as sick-headed as the Logans, allowing this to go on as long as he had.
I hadn’t killed a policeman, but a beast, and I could live with that.
A moan drew my attention and I leaned down to peer into the prisoner compartment. Jay was looking back at me, her eyes wild with fear, but also a touch of triumph. Her face was streaked with dust, blackened with tears, and her hair was matted to her skull. Her clothing was in disarray, equally smeared with dust and God knows what else and one of her shoes had fallen off and was in the well between the seat and Perspex screen. Other than lumps and scrapes from her earlier beatings and incarceration, she looked well.
‘I did it, Joe,’ she said very softly. ‘I did it.’
I took it she was referring to fighting back: jamming the knife I’d given her through Lewin’s arm. If she hadn’t brought herself to do so, I fear there’d have been a different resolution to my fight with Officer Lewin. She’d done it all right. Her distraction had allowed me to get close enough to kill the bastard. Her counter-attack had quite possibly saved both our lives.
How Lewin missed shooting her in such a confined space I couldn’t fathom. It was too dark to see where his shot had gone, but I knew from the way Jay looked back at me that she hadn’t been hit. I wondered if an ounce of compassion had remained in Lewin’s soul and at the last moment he’d redirected his aim. Maybe he only intended panicking me by making
it seem like he’d killed the woman. Then again, maybe Jay had stabbed him forcefully enough to knock his gun aside at just the right moment. I would never know now, and it wasn’t something I was about to take up with Jay. She’d been through enough. There would be plenty of opportunities to learn the story in the coming weeks, to a point where we’d both be sick of repeating it.
Jay made to clamber out of the cruiser, but then had second thoughts as her gaze alighted on the ruin of Lewin’s head. She cringed.
‘Wait there.’ I took hold of the corpse by the ankles and dragged it away from the car. Lewin’s service pistol had fallen to the ground. It was best that I didn’t touch it: the forensics would prove everything that had happened and I didn’t want to confuse things by handling the cop’s gun now.
Returning to the cruiser, I looked back at the house. Brent, Carson, Samuel and now, Officer Lewin: all of them were dead. It was over but for one thing.
‘C’mon, Jay,’ I said. ‘I’ll take you to Nicole and Ellie.’
To use the police cruiser would cause us too many problems in the long run, and not only because of the impact it could have on any subsequent forensic examination. I was concerned that – on seeing the police car approaching – Nicole might panic and open up with the shotgun I’d left her. Jay watched dispassionately as I went through Carson’s effects. The keys to Jameson Walker’s SUV were in his trouser pocket. I remembered that she’d called him the Tin Man because he’d been so heartless. Now it was Jay who looked like she possessed not an ounce of compassion, but who could blame her?
She also looked across at where Brent Logan was laid out and her only reaction was to blink like a bullfrog, slow and languid.
I took her by the arm and led her towards the back door. She followed but then came to a halt and stared back into the living space.
‘The other one? Samuel? What about him?’
I felt a tremor of fear course through her body, and I put a comforting arm around her. ‘As dead as the rest of them. He’s outside.’