Risk of a Lifetime

by Claudia Shelton

  Evans and Kennett were talking over each other, and he refocused on their conversation. “What’s going on?”

  “Me, Kennett, and a couple other cruisers are headed your way.” Evans said as a door creaked open and slammed closed in the background. “Kennett’s headed out right now. Don’t worry, we should be there ahead of 10:38.”

  JB glanced at Marcy. “The guy won’t wait today. He’ll get antsy. Nervous. Blow his routine.”

  “Call Wilson. Get your info. We’re on our way.”

  “Hey, Evans, do me a favor before you head out. Request one of the Jeff City police narrow in on Landon’s phone. Check out its location.”

  “You got it. Why?”

  “Make sure he’s actually where the phone shows.” JB shook his head. He had a bad feeling. Real bad feeling about the person behind all of this. “Things in my life started to fall apart after I met Landon on that meth bust. As I said before, I don’t like coincidences.”

  …

  JB speed dialed his boss, and Wilson answered on the first ring. “Tell me you got something on 1038?” JB said abruptly.

  “The guys in the office are still checking.” Wilson’s no-non-sense attitude carried through the phone. “We’ve put 1038 in as a random along with your name to see what comes up in the secure system. Nothing yet.”

  Marcy sat a refilled cup of coffee in front of JB and offered a scared smile before she walked back to the counter for her own cup. He fought the idea that he should have stayed away from her, away from Crayton. Recuperating in the hospital after the last job, the idea of getting back together with her had been the fuel to keep him going. His body might have been healed on its own, but the memories of her were what had healed his mind and emotions.

  He knew then that he’d give up everything else to live the rest of his life with her. The past few days might be all they had. At least they’d been together.

  The brush of her hand on his jerked him back from his thoughts. She sat in the chair beside him at the table, flipping through the horticulture book. Her eyes focused on each page as if taking in the colors and beauty of the scenes pushed the bluntness of the moment into the shadows. He noticed a tiny twitch right before she turned each page. She’d found her way to cope—one page at a time.

  As for him, he needed to focus on the clues. “Come on, Wilson. My gut tells me we don’t have many seconds on this end.”

  She twitched. Turned the page. Focused.

  His boss cleared his throat. “Okay. Here’s what we’ve got. One case came to a head at 10:38.”

  “Which one?” JB walked to the front window, then the side. Peeked through the louvers.

  “Job before last. The meth bust. My guys are running the particulars right now.” Shuffled papers sounded through the phone from Wilson’s end. “Hey, before I forget. You were right about Landon. I never should have put him on the robbery case. Crayton Police says he’s a loose cannon.”

  “Live and learn, I guess.” JB’s gut clenched tighter and tighter. His bad feeling picked up speed. “I don’t understand why he didn’t call you with the 1038 when Sheriff Davis asked him to. He knew Marcy and I were in danger. Why not ask if you could run a check on the numbers? I’d have done that for my worst enemy if it meant their life.”

  “I don’t know. Let’s concentrate on you right now. Take care of him later.” Wilson’s to-the-point mode returned. “Here’s what we’ve got. Date…not even close.”

  “What else you got?” he asked.

  “Teams ramped into place by10:35 AM. You ordered ‘go’ to your men and broke through the door.” Wilson quieted. “You know, I worked a long time getting that case together to have the glory go to a bunch of others in the Bureau.”

  Glory? What glory? JB felt no glory from that bust. People got killed that day. Some guilty. Some innocent. “Let’s talk about that later.”

  “Later…yeah, we’ll talk later.” Wilson’s voice kept fading in and out like someone panting as they ran.

  What was that noise? A dog? Barking? Where?

  “Did I just hear a dog on your end of the line?” JB asked.

  “Yeah. The people in the room next door brought their dog on vacation. It’s been a long night.”

  “I thought you were back in the office.” He could have sworn Wilson had rattled papers on his desk. Maybe the staff just faxed him the info. Didn’t matter. “What else you got?”

  Wilson coughed. Gasped for air. “Explosion in the lab. Time…10:38. Gunfire from both sides. Four casualties in the room. Two men. Two women. Plus our own. Six taken to hospital. Fifteen arrests that day plus three higher-ups two days later. “

  “How do we know the exact time?”

  Wilson paused, cleared his throat. “Notes say the watch on one of the women victims cracked and stopped at 10:38.”

  JB remembered that watch. He’d seen it being numbered for evidence, then a few days later, the watch was gone. He eased his Glock from his shoulder holster. The rest of his armor was in place, but he needed that gun in his hand right now. What had he heard? Sensed? Even with all the new information, why had the conversation made his cop instincts accelerate even higher?

  A dog barked outside in the far distance…no, the bark was through the phone. Which? Damn, he couldn’t afford to not be on top of sounds at this point. Had to be Landon.

  “I’ll call you right back. I’ve got another call coming in.” JB snapped the phone closed, ignoring the second call from Deputy Evans for a moment. He needed to think. Landon would have already had time to target the cabin from the cell towers. He could be closing in even as JB spoke to Wilson. His insides tensed. “Marcy.”

  She stood, shuffled into her coat, and shoved her weapon into her pocket. She didn’t hesitate. “I’m ready.”

  “If anything happens, when I tell you to move, don’t stop to think. Just do what I say. Follow our plan.”

  “I will.” She pulled her hat onto her head. “JB?”

  “Yeah?” He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “Please be careful.”

  He grinned. “You sound like you care.”

  She raced into the crook of his arm, burying her head against him. “I love you, JB. Don’t you dare get yourself killed before I can show you how much.”

  “I’m gonna hold you to that, sugar.” He squeezed her against him with one arm and pushed the return call button on the phone.

  “Deputy Evans here.”

  “You called me.” JB knew Evans wouldn’t have phoned again without a good reason.

  “Jeff City tracked Landon’s phone. Found him tied up in an abandoned house just outside of town. I’m patching you through to him now.”

  What the hell? Landon tied up?

  The phone clicked a couple of times with connections and reroutes. Seconds drug like hours.

  “JB, I’m not the one.” Landon’s voice sounded tense, a siren wailed close on his end. “Wilson set everything up to lay blame on me.”

  He tried to wrap his mind around those two sentences. Couldn’t be. “How do you know?”

  “Long story short. I called headquarters to check on some paperwork that I’d turned in to Wilson. They told me he’d been relieved. Arrested. Evidently, he’d been under investigation for some missing money. They believe Jennings got close, so he had him killed.”

  What the hell was going on?

  “But I just got off the phone with him.” JB pushed Marcy behind him and aimed his Glock at the door.

  Landon grunted with pain. “The Bureau said he escaped before they got him to jail. He gave me a lead on your case last night, then ambushed me when I showed up.”

  That would explain Wilson’s new phone number and so-called vacation. Never mind the strange exchange they’d had a few minutes ago. “But why would he be after you and me?”

  “Something to do with that meth bust. Some woman that was killed. He said we’d ruined his life. Every time he punched me, he’d yell about how you and I would pay for wha
t we did.”

  JB glanced up toward the roof. Had that been a footstep? A falling acorn? A squirrel taking a shortcut? “I didn’t know either one of those women who were killed that day, did you?”

  “No. But evidently, he knew one of them as more than an acquaintance.” Landon coughed on an intake of breath. “He kept mentioning something about Oklahoma.”

  “The younger girl killed that day was from Oklahoma. I could swear her name was Carla.”

  “I don’t know about that, but every time I asked who she was, he’d hit me again. Or get right in my face all crazy-eyed and say how I was getting my payback slow and steady. Seemed real proud of himself that he’d used blue and brown contacts to lay blame off on me when he killed Leon and ran the sheriff off the road.” Landon paused. “Then he’d stomp around the room laughing. Crazy…like he’d gone mad. Once he calmed down, he became the cool professional again.”

  None of this made sense any more. Of course, when had it ever made sense? “There’s got to be a reason.”

  “Don’t try to figure out why. Focus on keeping your wife safe.” The steady drone of the siren mingled with Landon’s voice ramped the tension. “From what I gathered, he’s after you by using her. Told me he didn’t know which he’d enjoy more—my one-day-at-a-time agony, or the look on your face when he kills your wife right in front of you.”

  JB didn’t know what a day-at-a-time agony for Landon meant, but he’d already figured the villain was after himself through Marcy. Now the missing link had fallen into place—Wilson. But who was Carla to him? That could be the key to tripping the man up. Carla? Oklahoma?

  “You still there?” Landon asked.

  “Yeah. Do you think he’s targeted anyone else?”

  “Don’t know. He’s got to be stopped at all costs.”

  JB didn’t need anyone telling him what had to be done. He didn’t need the badge to know the procedure. He also knew the unspoken procedures. Ones nobody talked about. Ones that saved lives.

  Glancing at his wife, he felt the ache of the hard clench of his jaw. God, he loved her.

  Nothing she’d ever done or said had been to put him down. She’d only been protecting herself from her own insecurities. He’d done the same by believing the words from his childhood that he wasn’t good enough. The hell with that. He was damn good. Good enough to fight to save her any way he had to. Whatever the situation called for today, Marcy would survive, or he’d die trying.

  That simple. Raw and brutal. No regrets.

  “Backup would sure be nice about now.” He gripped the Glock tighter.

  “I’m on my way, man. We’re all on our way.” Landon hung up.

  Question was…would they get there in time?

  …

  JB dialed his ex-boss. He needed to know why the man had made him a target. He’d racked his memory for an answer. A reason. Knowing why would give him an edge. Allow him to turn the tables on the killer. Might even be enough to get out of this alive.

  “What do you need, JB?” Wilson answered like a man in charge. Concerned. Willing to help. Like a man who actually cared.

  For an instant, the thought crossed JB’s mind that maybe Landon had played them all. But it passed. He’d concentrate on Wilson for the moment. “Tell me about the two women victims.”

  Papers shuffled again. Or was that the sound of dried leaves crunching beneath a boot? Slapping at clothing as someone ran through the bushes?

  “No one ever came forward to claim the remains on one of them. You and Landon came up with the identification on the other woman. Twenty-six. A runaway who latched onto the city and stayed. You two tracked down the parents. Dad a farmer. Mom a gift shop manager. Landon arranged to ship her body back to Oklahoma. Only thing he did right on that job.”

  JB jogged his memory. “I never helped ID anybody on that case. Give me a minute to think.”

  He concentrated on the day of the bust. The going in. The blast. The wrap-up. The processing. The paperwork and sign-off. Nothing else. No Mom. No Dad. No Oklahoma. In fact, the only time he talked to Landon was an hour after the blast when he’d finally showed up. Said he’d overslept. Said a wreck on the highway had slowed him down. Said he’d forgotten his phone. From the little JB had seen Landon up until then, he’d always seemed like a rock-hard lean-over-the-edge protocol type of special agent. That day, he’d seemed off. Almost human. JB had found him standing in a corner at one point, staring at the floor.

  JB forced himself to see the room in detail. Landon had squeezed the bridge of his nose. Face red as a stop light. Looked at the ceiling. Steadied against the wall. Squeezed the bridge of his nose again. JB had asked him if something was wrong. Landon had said he was just coming down with a cold.

  Wilson had walked in about that time. The man had stared at the floor. Bent next to a young woman’s body. Blond hair. Black, leather boots. Even touched her hand, her hair. Brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek. Strange behavior for an agent. Especially one who’d been in charge of the bust until that morning. Then he’d jumped up and walked out the door. Said he’d get out of the way.

  Landon had said he would finish up his side of the paperwork at home. JB had never seen him again until he’d shown up in Marcy’s hospital room.

  JB blew out a sigh. Time to push. To antagonize. “Carla. The woman from Oklahoma was named Carla. Right?”

  “Right. How did you know if you didn’t help with the ID?” Wilson laced his voice with accusation.

  “You mentioned her.”

  “I never mentioned Carla at work.”

  Quiet, quiet, quiet.

  Had Wilson realized what he said?

  “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it was someone else who knew a Carla.”

  “That’s right. B…because I never knew…never… There are lot…lots of women named Carla in the world.” Wilson seemed to choke on the words.

  “Yeah, couldn’t have been you. That guy always talked about his girlfriend. Some woman named Carla.” JB had him dead to rights. Everything that had happened since he’d arrived in Crayton was revenge. Revenge for someone Wilson loved. JB loved Marcy. Everything fell into place. “The guy talked about how they were going to South America. A vacation. Might even find a place to buy. Wish I could remember who that was.”

  He knew exactly who it was. Wilson. At the time, JB had wondered how they could afford a vacation property on an FBI salary. He’d figured the woman must be rich. The way Wilson had talked about her, one would have thought she was the greatest thing he’d ever had in his life. Must have been to push him to this.

  A bump on the side of the house jerked his attention in that direction. After walking to the window, he leaned his ear against the louvers. He could swear he heard a footstep on the porch. Not loud but still a footstep. JB’s anger roiled. When you couldn’t even trust your backup, you were on the devil’s doorstep.

  Wilson panted. “You never did say where you were hiding.”

  What the hell. The man had to be close anyhow. “We’re at a friend’s cabin on the lake.”

  “Bet you even got one of them green wooden swings facing the lake on the front porch. Maybe a tractor-looking bird feeder on the rail.”

  JB glanced out the window at the green swing. The bird feeder.

  The man was close. Close as the wind outside.

  There was one more thing that had been gnawing on JB’s mind. “Hey, when did you contact Landon about coming to Crayton?”

  “I left him a voice mail right after you and I talked that afternoon. He didn’t call back until about 8:00 the next morning. Why?”

  “Then how did he manage to be in my wife’s hospital room by nine o’clock that morning? Springfield is a good three hours away. It’s almost like he planned everything from the start. What do you think? Why would he do that? Of course, I guess a really smart mastermind would have thought of everything.”

  JB waited for a response. Maybe that would be enough to goad Wilson into making a mistake. Into tak
ing credit. Make him confess everything now, so the final confrontation could be quick and done.

  “I…you’re right. Takes a smart man to get away with all this.” Wilson paused. “Tell me JB, have you figured out what you did to Landon? What made him want to make you suffer? ‘Cause he’s sure tortured you these past couple weeks. I couldn’t believe he tried to kill your wife right there in the hospital.”

  JB punched the wall. Hard and to the point. The son of a bitch on the phone had tried to kill Marcy. He’d been the volunteer with room information back at the hospital, planning everything so Landon would take the fall that day. Even so far as setting the stage to allow Leon out on bail.

  Calm, play this calm. “Yeah. Like they say, you never know who your enemies are.”

  Wilson chuckled, low and conniving. “Friends…you never know who your friends are.”

  “We’ll talk about friends and enemies the next time I see you.” JB ended the call and tossed the phone on the sofa. Didn’t need to talk to anyone else anytime soon. Now, the game centered on the here and now. Him and Marcy.

  He knew his friends. They were on their way.

  She followed his movements with her eyes. He listened at the window again.

  Motioning Marcy to stay quiet, he walked back to her and leaned in close. “You heard me say it’s Wilson?”

  She nodded.

  “I need to see if he’s set anybody else up. Get him to admit he killed Jennings. Ratted me out.” JB’s lips brushed the hair next to her ear. “I need your help to pull off the plan we talked about. Can you do that? Will you help me?”

  She bit her lip, then mouthed. “Yes.”

  “Good girl. You can do this.”

  She turned to his ear. “What are you going to do?”

  He grinned. “Let him in.”

  After a quick kiss on her lips, JB pushed her behind him. He turned, she turned. Two people…one movement.

  A scratch on the back of the cabin caused him to raise his gun in the direction of the bedroom. Quiet. A lot of quiet seconds. He clocked it on his watch. Cat and mouse sounds or staging sounds? Tiny pecks sounded on the roof like a handful of pebbles being thrown on top. Don’t imagine. Don’t put too much emphasis on any one thing. Could be the rain. The storm. The wind. Could be any number of things.