Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series

by Rayven T. Hill

  His team was ready. “Move out,” Brewer said, taking the lead. “Let’s get this guy.”

  CHAPTER 56

  Sunday, 10:59 AM

  JAKE HELD THE rifle in his right hand, the safety off, ready to bring it into action at a moment’s notice. He led the way through the forest, Bob following behind.

  He was uncertain what he would find. When he’d been to the cabin earlier, it was empty, but he fully intended to persevere this time. The boys were safe and he was determined to pursue Annie’s abductor wherever the chase might lead. All he had to do was find him.

  Whether or not his quarry was armed, Jake didn’t know. Both of the known victims were killed by a knife, but he wasn’t about to rule out the presence of more lethal weapons.

  “Ain’t never been in this area before,” Bob said from behind.

  Jake stopped, turned around, and spoke quietly. “Keep your voice down. We have no idea where this guy is, and if he sees us first…” He didn’t finish the sentence. The implication was clear.

  Bob looked uncomfortable and glanced around. He whispered, “You’re sure you don’t want to wait for the cops?”

  “Look,” Jake said. “You’re free to turn around any time you want.”

  Bob licked his lips. “I’ll come along.”

  “Then keep it down. And keep an eye on our flank.”

  “What’s a flank?”

  “Just keep watch on both sides of us.”

  Bob nodded. “Ok.”

  Jake turned and continued on, careful where he placed each foot, keeping a close eye in all directions, ready to react to any potential danger. Maybe he should have left the young fellow behind; he wasn’t going to be of much use.

  The occasional small creature of the forest rustled leaves on the ground or overhead, darting through bushes or rooting in the underbrush, and Jake paused each time, moving on only when he knew it was safe.

  He glanced back at Bob. The youth was diligent about watching their flank. His head moved back and forth in a comical, rhythmic pattern. Jake wasn’t sure about the boy’s ability to be a game warden one day, but he couldn’t be worse than his uncle.

  Branches slapped together in a sudden breeze causing Bob to jump, then grin foolishly when he realized what had startled him. Jake shook his head and continued on.

  In a few minutes, the outline of the cabin became visible through the trees. Jake pointed and held a finger to his lips. Bob’s eyes grew large and the young man didn’t appear to be breathing. Then he swallowed hard, his eyes narrowed, and his hand dropped to the knife at his belt.

  Jake became doubly vigilant as he moved to the edge of the clearing surrounding the cabin. He held up a hand of caution to Bob and listened intently. Other than the young man rustling his feet nervously in the leaves, no other sound caught his attention. Everything appeared to be the same as before.

  Except one thing. Jake peered closer and his heart jumped. The padlock, now unlocked, hung loosely on the wide-open clasp.

  Someone was in the cabin.

  He turned back to Bob and whispered, “Someone is here now, so don’t move, and don’t breathe.”

  Bob took a shallow breath and nodded, looking bug-eyed toward the building.

  “Stay here,” Jake said, and paused a moment to make sure the young man understood.

  Bob remained frozen as Jake crept across the hardened ground to the corner of the cabin. The shutters at the side of the building were still closed and locked.

  He needed to take a look inside. He checked the rear window, but the shutters were secure, without so much as a pinhole to allow a peek into the building.

  Jake weighed his options. He could wait until someone came out of the cabin before making his move, or he could barge in the front door with his rifle ready and hope for the best. He decided both options were dangerous and could endanger Annie—if she was in there.

  He decided on a third possibility. He would find a way to draw Annie’s abductor out of the building, and then overpower him, either by brute force or by deadly force, whatever best insured Annie’s safety.

  He returned to Bob and prodded him behind the trunk of a large tree, out of sight of the building. “I need your help,” he said to the trembling youth.

  “Uh, ok. Sure,” Bob said, looking hesitant.

  “I need you to knock on the door.”

  Bob’s bulging eyes bulged even more. “Uh.” He licked his lips, swallowed, and blew out a long breath. “Are … are you serious?”

  “Deadly serious.” Jake realized he should’ve used a different choice of words. “I have a plan that should work.”

  “Should?”

  “Will. It will work. Trust me.”

  Bob swallowed again and nodded slowly. “Ok.”

  “I’m not forcing you. It’s your choice.”

  The youth’s head bobbed up and down. He took a deep breath. “I can do it.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yup.”

  “Then let’s go,” Jake said, with a thumbs up. He moved toward the cabin and took up position to the left of the door, out of sight, the rifle ready. He had to do this right; he would only have one chance. Not only was his life at stake, but possibly Bob’s, and certainly Annie’s as well.

  Bob stepped in front of the door and raised his hand, ready to knock. He bit his lip and looked hesitantly at Jake.

  “Knock and stand back,” Jake whispered, offering the terrified young man encouragement with a nod.

  Bob took a deep breath and stared at his trembling hand, then at the door. He leaned in and rapped twice, then stepped backwards and looked at Jake.

  A muffled voice came through the door. “Who is it?”

  “Tell him your name,” Jake said quietly.

  “It … it’s Bob,” the frightened young man called.

  The latch rattled and the door opened a couple of inches. Jake tensed and gripped the rifle, his finger tightening on the trigger, ready to make his move.

  The door creaked fully open and Bob’s eyes bulged. He made a gasping sound, then turned and dashed away.

  Jake stepped out in full view and raised the rifle. He stared hard, frowned, and lowered the weapon.

  Andy stood in the doorway, a raised pistol in his hand.

  “Andy,” Jake said. “What’s going on?”

  “Hi, Jake,” Andy said with a warm smile. “My name is Varick Lucas, and I’ve been expecting you.”

  CHAPTER 57

  Sunday, 11:40 AM

  ANNIE WATCHED IN horror as Jake stood in the doorway of the cabin, a confused look on his face. Lucas stepped backwards and kept the pistol trained on her husband.

  “Drop the rifle,” Lucas said.

  Jake’s eyes roved over the group huddled on the cot—Matty and Kyle, one on each side of Annie, one arm around each. Holly sat on a nearby chair.

  “Andy, what’s this all about?” Jake asked, his voice mixed with confusion and dread.

  Lucas laughed. “You can stop calling me Andy now. He’s dead.”

  The truth dawned on Jake. “The body in the forest … that’s Andy.”

  “Yup.”

  “And you took his place, his clothes, everything, pretending to be him.”

  “Yup again.”

  “How did you know I never met Andy before?”

  “Simple. Our dear warden dropped by and he happened to mention he hadn’t made his rounds yet this weekend.” Lucas waved the gun. “Now, drop the rifle and go sit on the cot.”

  Jake hesitated and continued to stare at Lucas. Annie saw him weighing his options. Finally, the rifle clattered to the floor as Jake released it from his grasp. He stepped inside, took a seat on the cot beside Matty, and leaned forward.

  Lucas kept the pistol trained on his hostages while he bent to pick up the rifle. He inspected it, then grinned, pulled up a chair, staying a few feet back, and sat down. He laid the rifle across his knees and held the pistol in his right hand.

  “Why’re you doing th
is?” Jake asked.

  “It’s just a game, “ Lucas said. “Something to pass the time.”

  “And what’s the end result?”

  Lucas raised the pistol, stretched it out, squinted one eye, and aimed at Jake’s head. “Bang, bang.”

  “Why?” Annie asked, her voice hoarse with fear.

  “Because you mean nothing to me.” He waved the pistol. “Any of you.”

  “So you killed the game warden just to play your sick little game?” Jake asked.

  Lucas seemed offended. “You have to admit, Jake, it’s been quite a game. It’s been a challenge for both of us. You have no idea what I went through to orchestrate this whole thing—to make everything work together, and time it just right.”

  Annie glanced down at Matty. He seemed to be putting on a brave face, but Annie could tell how frightened the boy was. His eyes never wavered from Lucas, his face almost expressionless as he hugged his backpack. Kyle had snuggled in tightly, his eyes closed, and Annie drew him even closer.

  Holly sat with her head down, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Occasionally she glanced toward her captor, and then dropped her head again when his eyes fell on her.

  Jake seemed unruffled but Annie knew he wasn’t. She could tell by his tight voice. “Why don’t you let the children go?” he asked.

  Lucas shrugged. “Why should I? What’s so special about them?”

  “They’re innocent kids,” Jake said, his voice raised.

  Lucas moved the pistol toward Jake. “Keep your voice down.”

  Jake sat back and glared.

  Annie spoke up. “Your mother wouldn’t want you to harm the children.”

  Lucas’s jaw clenched, his eyes becoming wild. He leaned forward and pointed a finger at Annie. “What do you know about my mother?” His face flushed, his voice now intense. “I told you about my mother in confidence and you have no business repeating what I said.”

  “You told me your mother was a saint.”

  Lucas gritted his teeth. “She was.”

  “Then she’s in heaven now, and she’s watching you.”

  Lucas exploded to his feet. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.” He strode behind his chair and leaned over the table, slamming his fist on the hard wooden top. He stood still a moment, then raised his head toward the ceiling, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  He opened the cupboard and removed a glass, then picked up the water pail. It was empty, and he tossed it into the corner and found a beer in the cupboard, took the top off, and took a long drink.

  “I have one beer left,” he said calmly. “Anybody want it?”

  Nobody answered.

  He left the half-finished beer on the table, went to his chair and sat down, his face returning to normal, his rage expended.

  He smiled with his lips, but Annie saw the same evil as before. He sat still for a minute or two, the smile remaining, breathing quietly to regain his composure as his eyes flickered over the hostages.

  “And now it’s time for the next phase of our game,” he said quietly. “Which one of you wants to play first?”

  When no one spoke, Matty slid forward and said, “I will.”

  Annie glanced down at her son. His face was unsmiling, and she could tell he knew it was much more than a friendly game. “No, Matty,” she said frantically.

  “It’s ok, Mom.”

  “The boy has volunteered,” Lucas said, as he reached back, grabbed another hard-backed chair and swung it forward. It slid toward the cot and stopped. He motioned to Matty. “Sit there.”

  Matty attempted to slide off the bed but Annie held his arm.

  “Let him go,” Lucas said, pointing the gun in her direction.

  She held on to her son. Matty touched his mother’s hand and peeled back her fingers gently. “It’s ok.”

  Her hand slipped away and she watched in horror while Matty sat in the chair, hugging his backpack, five feet from the insane murderer.

  Annie calculated the odds. If she sprang at Lucas, he would more than likely shoot her, but Jake would undoubtedly act fast and tackle Lucas before he had a chance to harm anyone else. Especially her only son.

  Lucas swung the gun toward Matty. “Thanks for volunteering. It makes my life easier.”

  “No,” Jake shouted and leaped to his feet. He seemed about to spring at the madman.

  Lucas paused and pointed the pistol at Jake. “Do you want to take his place? I had hoped to save you for last.”

  Annie leaned forward slightly and tensed up. If Jake made a move, she was ready to spring off the cot and help him subdue the crazed killer. If he got shot, she was still determined to do all she could for the sake of her family.

  “I’ll take his place if you let him go.” Jake waved toward the group of terrified hostages. “If you let them all go, you can do whatever you want with me.”

  “That’s sporting of you,” Lucas said. He touched the pistol to his cheek and frowned. “But that would require a change in the rules.”

  “It’s your game,” Jake said. “You can change the rules any time you want.”

  Lucas glared at Jake. He seemed to be considering the proposition.

  “I’m the one you want,” Jake continued.

  Lucas laughed. “That’s just the point. I don’t want any of you.” He moved the pistol, pointing it one by one toward each of the hostages. “I don’t want you, or you, or you—”

  He laughed loudly again before continuing. “It’s not a matter of who; it’s a matter of who’s first.” He looked at Matty. “And the boy volunteered to go first.”

  CHAPTER 58

  Sunday, 11:56 AM

  RCMP SERGEANT LANCE BREWER stood on the knoll, a hundred feet from the rear of the cabin, his field glasses trained on the building.

  The only window in the back of the aging structure was shuttered and padlocked. He motioned for one of his men to move forward and take up position by the rear wall. Brewer moved in behind him, keeping low.

  “Can you get a look in there, Shears?” he asked.

  Shears inspected the window and replied. “There’s no place to fit a camera, but I might get some sound.”

  Brewer motioned for Shears to stay and he circled around to the side of the building. Another window, shuttered and locked. They wouldn’t be able to get any sight through this one either.

  Brewer motioned to another of his men. “Wilton, watch the corner.”

  Wilton moved out to a position where he could see both the side and front of the structure and crouched down, his weapon drawn, safety off and ready.

  Maynard and Collins had already taken up position in the trees at the front of the building. Maynard sighted through the scope of the modified Winchester, trained on the only door of the cabin.

  Brewer instructed him, “Take the shot if necessary. Use your discretion.”

  “Yes, sir,” Maynard said. He was trained to target the body’s center mass or upper torso to stop the threat. He knew it was difficult to aim, particularly under stress, with the accuracy needed to hit extremities. He would need to shoot to kill.

  Collins removed the portable thermal imaging system from his pack. The sophisticated piece of equipment looked like a small camera, but was capable of detecting heat given off by objects and persons. The portable battering ram he’d carried, capable of producing 800 pounds of force, lay beside him, ready for use at a moment’s notice.

  Brewer crouched beside Collins. “What do we have?”

  “It’s hard to tell precisely,” Collins answered. “It appears there are several individuals inside.” He pointed to the display. “Maybe three or four right there.” He moved his finger. “And another one right there.”

  Brewer’s face was grim. “Could be hostages,” he said.

  “Pssst.”

  Brewer spun around, his SIG Sauer semi-automatic pistol drawn and ready. The sound had come from behind them, a few yards away.

  “Over here.” The voice w
as a little louder, and a hand waved from behind a bush.

  “Come out of there,” Brewer demanded, his weapon trained on the spot.

  A young man crawled out on his hands and knees, then sat on his heels and raised his hands. Brewer squinted. It certainly wasn’t Lucas. He moved in, his pistol ready.

  The lad stood up, his hands still raised.

  “Who’re you?” Brewer asked.

  “Bob.” The young man’s voice shook, his eyes fixed on the deadly weapon. He cowered as Brewer towered over him.

  “And what’re you doing here, Bob?”

  “I … uh.”

  “Spit it out boy.”

  Bob swallowed hard. “I came here with Jake and … there’s a guy in the cabin with a gun. He captured Jake and I ran.”

  Brewer frowned. “Who’s Jake?”

  “They … uh … they were camping here and I think the gunman has his wife in there too.”

  Brewer turned and glanced at the cabin. It made sense. He turned back to the frightened youth. “Put your hands down.”

  Bob’s dropped his hands in front of him, wringing them nervously.

  Brewer twisted sideways and pointed to a patch on his shoulder. “RCMP. We’ll handle this,” he said. “Stay back out of sight, but don’t go far. We’ll need to talk to you after we get this guy.”

  Bob nodded vigorously, stepped back a few feet, and hunkered down behind a tree trunk.

  Brewer followed him and pointed a finger. “I don’t have the manpower to watch you. Are you going to stay put?”

  Bob nodded again.

  Brewer returned to where Collins crouched, watching the heat images. “It appears there’s at least one hostage, likely more.” Brewer said. He pointed to the monitor. “This looks like the gunman, and these are the hostages.”

  He removed a megaphone fastened to his pack, flicked it on, and raised it to his lips.

  His voice filled the forest. “Varick Lucas, this is the RCMP, come out with your hands up.”

  CHAPTER 59

  Sunday, 12:08 PM