But Not Forever: A Clint Wolf Novel (Clint Wolf Mystery Series Book 4)

by BJ Bourg

  “I can’t allow you to enter that garage.” Amy’s voice was cool and calculating. “If you try to open that door I’m going to be forced to fire on you.”

  Rick sneered. “You wouldn’t dare—not while I’m holding a hostage.”

  “I wouldn’t want to,” Amy acknowledged, trying to keep him talking and distracted, “but I’d have to. The book of tactics says so. Once I have you in my sights, I’m supposed to maintain a visual on you.”

  This seemed to confuse Rick. He licked his dry lips as he tried to decide what to do next. He clearly hadn’t anticipated being confronted out in the open. He was about to open his mouth when tires screeched from the street behind Amy. She saw Rick glance in that direction, but she kept her eyes on him, hoping it was her backup, and not someone he knew.

  “Who is it, Rick?” Hoping it was Susan or Clint, Amy raised her voice to alert them to her location. “What do you see?”

  “I don’t see anything, but if it’s more of your people, I’m going to end this once and for all.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Susan screeched to a halt and jumped out of her Tahoe. I slipped from the passenger seat and we made our way toward the house in a crouching run. Susan suddenly shoved her arm toward me and stopped me in my tracks. Pressing her soft lips to my ear, she asked me if I’d heard voices.

  I shook my head. It was growing darker by the minute, but we could see each other in the glow from the nearby streetlight.

  She shot a thumb toward the garage we’d searched last Friday. “I heard Amy’s voice back there.” She then pointed toward the opposite side of the house, where the carport was located. “I’ll make my way around the house on that side and come up behind them.”

  I nodded and headed toward the corner of the house nearest the garage. When I peeked around the house, I sucked in my breath. Rick had an arm around Cindy’s face and an old revolver pushed up against her head. Amy was standing near the house and had her pistol trained on Rick.

  I needed Rick’s attention focused toward the front of the house so Susan could get behind him. There was an oak tree between the house and the garage and I quickly stepped toward it, calling out as I did so. “Rick, this is Clint Wolf, what’s going on over here?”

  Rick turned to face me, spinning Cindy around and used her as a shield. “Stay back! I’m warning you—if either of you take a step toward me, I’m going to kill her.”

  This was all too familiar and I had to blink away my past. Focus, Clint, I thought as I steadied my gun hand against a tree branch. I placed my front sight over Rick’s right eye. He was about ten yards away, which would be an easy shot with my Beretta, but a handgun round would not produce an instantaneous no-reflex kill shot. As long as the muzzle of his revolver was pressed against Cindy’s head, we’d have to try negotiating with him.

  Amy turned quickly to glance at me and I gave her a nod. She’d established initial contact with Rick, so it would be best if she continued talking to him. I just needed him watching me so he wouldn’t see Susan, who had melded into the tree line behind his house and was making her way through the dark shadows toward the back of the garage. I couldn’t really see her, but every now and then the lights from the street glinted off her gold badge.

  “Why don’t you tell us why you’re doing this?” Amy asked. “Whatever it is you’re going through, we can help. I know it might seem like the end of the world right now, but it’s not. You can move past this.”

  “I’m not going to prison.” Rick shuffled closer to the garage. “I’m going to get in my car and I’m going to drive out of here with Cindy. As long as you guys stay out of the way, no one will get hurt.”

  “We can’t let you leave,” Amy said. “I already told you—it’s in the rule book. We’re not allowed to let you go mobile, so you’ve got to work with us here. Maybe you can leave Cindy with us and leave on your own.”

  “You really think I’m that stupid?” He scoffed. “The second I let go of her you’re going to shoot me. That’s also in the rule book, isn’t it?”

  “There’s another way.” Amy kept her eyes focused like a laser on Rick as Susan slid along the side of the garage. Susan’s pistol was out and it was pointing directly at the back of Rick’s head.

  “The only way this ends well is if you two back off and let me leave.” Rick’s voice was growing increasingly desperate. “If no one tries to follow me, I’ll let Cindy go when I reach the parish line. If I see anything that even resembles a cop car…she’s going to die.”

  “That’s your daughter we’re talking about,” Amy said. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Look at her.” Rick spat the words. “She looks nothing like me. I’m no more her dad than I am Burton’s.”

  I saw Cindy’s eyes widen and then narrow in anger. I cocked my head sideways as I studied the part of her face that wasn’t covered by Rick’s hairy arm. Her face was contorted and she was shifting her feet. I didn’t realize what she was doing until Rick cried out in pain and tried to jerk his arm away from her face, but her teeth were clamped tightly to his flesh.

  Sensing she had an opportunity to escape, Cindy ducked low and broke free from Rick’s grasp. She lurched forward and ran toward Amy, who dropped her pistol so it wasn’t pointing at Cindy. I didn’t have a shot on him either, so I moved toward my left, trying to get clear of Cindy. Susan was quickly closing the gap between them, but Rick’s gun hand was coming up too fast. I still didn’t have a shot because Susan was in my cross-fire. I hollered a warning toward Amy just as his gun went off.

  In my peripheral vision, I saw Amy dive toward Cindy and crash into her. They both hit the ground hard. I couldn’t tell if one or both of them were hit and I still couldn’t risk a shot for fear of hitting Susan, so I rushed forward to place myself in front of Cindy and Amy.

  Susan’s movements were a blur in the dim light from the street. She stepped to Rick’s right and jumped into the air, executing a front kick to the back of his right elbow. Bones crunched as the inside crook of his elbow shot upward, leaving his gun hand behind. The fingers of his right hand went limp and the revolver dangled in mid-air. I continued moving forward, but Susan delivered a lightning-fast roundhouse kick that caught the revolver in mid-air and slammed it into the side of Rick’s head. He fell to the ground in a heap.

  While Susan cuffed him, I rushed to help Cindy off the ground. “Are you hurt?” I asked.

  Trembling, she shook her head. “I’m…I’m okay.”

  Amy bounced to her feet and dusted off her shirt, then pushed up beside me to check Cindy for bullet holes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I looked Amy over. “And you?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine.”

  I walked to where Susan was cuffing Rick. His right arm was bent in the wrong direction, but he was unconscious and didn’t seem to notice. I pulled out my cell phone and squatted to take a picture of the revolver on the ground. Amy joined me and held out a pair of latex gloves she’d removed from a pouch on her belt.

  After donning the gloves, I lifted the revolver and checked the alignment of the cylinder—it was off. “This is the murder weapon,” I said, opening the cylinder to unload it. I made a mental note of the position of the spent casing and removed the five live rounds first.

  “I didn’t murder anyone,” said a groggy Rick, who was now semi-alert and being helped to his feet by Susan. Blood poured freely from a nasty gash on the side of his head. “Never saw that gun in my life.”

  Susan held him steady with one hand and advised him of his Miranda rights. Before she could finish, he said he already knew his rights.

  “I want my lawyer, bitch,” Rick said. “I ain’t saying a word to you or any other pig until I see one.”

  My blood instantly boiled at the way he spoke to Susan, but I didn’t say a word. Susan was very capable of defending herself, but—like every good cop—she wasn’t fazed by the suspect’s comments. As for me, I could handle the wo
rst of insults with the best of them, but I knew I was going to have a hard time hearing them hurled at the woman I loved. I was just hoping those instances would be rare.

  Susan took Rick by the arm and indicated with her head for him to walk toward the front of the house. When she touched his arm, he cried out in pain. He began complaining about police brutality and threatening to sue the office. As he spoke, his words were drawn and slurred and blood continued to drain from his head, where a large lump had formed. I wondered if he might be suffering from a brain injury. He looked deranged, like something from out of The Walking Dead.

  “Just keep walking,” Susan told him. “If I have to carry you, it’ll hurt a lot worse.”

  After asking Amy to keep an eye on the house until I could secure a search warrant, Cindy and I followed Susan to her Tahoe and I watched as she pulled out a first aid kit and bandaged Rick’s head before securing him in the back seat on the passenger side. I told Cindy to ride in the front with Susan and I sat beside Rick. Since he’d invoked his right to counsel, I couldn’t question him, but there was a lot I wished I could ask him. I was just hoping Judith was willing to talk now that Cindy was safe.

  While I was fairly certain the revolver in Rick’s possession was the one that had killed Fowler Underwood, I needed more evidence to prove he was the one who actually killed the old mountain man. Since he had lawyered up, I would be forced to rely on Judith to fill in the missing pieces to this crime puzzle. Question was: would she do it? And if she did turn on him, how reliable would her testimony be? She had already lied to me, so I would need to corroborate every little thing she told me…if I could.

  CHAPTER 49

  Melvin met us in the parking lot when Susan and I arrived at the police department with Rick and Cindy.

  “Ride with me to the hospital,” Susan told Melvin, “so Clint can interview Judith Vincent.”

  “You’d better not badger her!” Rick said, sounding like a drunken man. “I’ll sic my lawyer on you so fast your head will explode.”

  Since Rick initiated contact with me after invoking his right to an attorney, I decided to use that opportunity to plant a seed of doubt in his mind. “Judith’s already given me enough information to put Rick away for the rest of his life,” I said to Susan. “Next, we’ll start working on our case for the death penalty.”

  “That’s bullshit.” Rick’s head swayed from side to side as though it were going to fall off his shoulders. “She would never betray me. You’d better do what she says and get her a lawyer before you—”

  “Sorry,” I said before Melvin slammed the back door, “but you’ve already asked for your lawyer, so we’re done here.”

  Susan gave me a wink as she drove away and I just stood watching until her taillights had almost reached the intersection with Main and Washington, lost in thought as I tried to put the pieces together before meeting with Judith.

  “Mister Clint?” Cindy asked in a low voice. “Are we going inside?”

  I snapped my head around and apologized. “Let’s go inside and let your mom know you’re okay.”

  We trudged up the concrete steps and Cindy stopped at the landing, turned to face me. “Did my dad kill Troy?”

  I frowned. “I’m not sure, but I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”

  She stood looking up at me for a long moment, and then finally turned away.

  I held the door for her and watched as she ran into Judith’s open arms. The two embraced while Cindy excitedly told her mom what had happened back at the house. Judith clung tightly to Cindy and cried, thanking God that she was okay. At one point, she looked over Cindy’s shoulder and said, “Thank you so much for keeping my baby safe.”

  I only nodded. I didn’t want to rush them, but I wanted to know what information she possessed. Finally, Judith wiped her eyes and told Cindy she had to talk with me alone.

  “You can sit in the dispatcher’s office,” I offered Cindy. “Burton’s in there right now.”

  I saw Cindy’s eyes cloud over at the mention of Burton. “Is it true? He’s not really my brother?”

  As much as she had seemed to dislike Burton, she was genuinely sad. Judith melted into Cindy and cried some more. “My dear girl, he is, and will always be, your brother—and don’t you ever doubt that again.”

  “Come on, Mrs. Vincent,” I said, coaxing her along. “Let’s get this settled so y’all can go home as a family.”

  She wiped her eyes and nodded. “Go wait with Burton, dear,” she said to Cindy, and then followed me through the lobby door on the right and down the hall to the interview room.

  “So, where were we?” I asked once we were seated.

  “The last thing you asked me about was my work.”

  I pulled out my notepad and nodded. “But let’s start from the beginning.”

  “How far back?” she asked, blowing her nose into a Kleenex.

  “Eighteen years…back to when Larry Cooper was murdered.”

  “I already told you that I don’t know anything about that. I met Rick when he was—”

  “I know what you told me,” I said, interrupting her. “I want you to start over, but this time I want you to tell me the truth.”

  She blinked twice. “But I am.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “A curious thing…Rick didn’t want me badgering you.”

  “Okay. And…?”

  “He seemed confident you hadn’t told on him and he said you would never betray him. This makes me believe y’all had a plan, and he was worried I’d break you down and get you to confess if I badgered you.”

  “He threatened Cindy, and that’s why he believes I haven’t said anything. He knows I would rather die than let anything bad happen to my kids.”

  “You just said kids—plural. I thought Burton wasn’t your child.”

  “He’s not my biological son, but I raised him since he was small, so he’s like a son to me.”

  I nodded slowly. “So, you started to tell me it was all Rick—that he was responsible for the murders.”

  Judith fixed me with her big brown eyes, as though trying to determine how much she should tell me.

  “Look, Mrs. Vincent, a few seconds ago you said you’d rather die than let anything bad happen to your kids.” I pause to let her ponder what I’d just said. “Did you mean it or was it a load of crap?”

  “I meant it.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me what happened? And why don’t you start from the beginning?”

  “All I know is Rick killed that stranger because he was snooping around asking questions. Rick was worried he’d find out the truth about Burton not being his son.”

  I shook my head. “Rick already knew Burton wasn’t his son. You both knew that.” I leaned my forearms on the desk. “Look, sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do, but it’s necessary. And by things, I mean sometimes we have to kill people who deserve killing. It’s not something we want to do and we certainly didn’t sign up for it, but sometimes we just have to do it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Well, let’s go over what I know. Firstly, I know you’re Melissa Cooper. Secondly, I know Burton is Drake Cooper. Thirdly, I know Larry Cooper is Burton’s dad and, lastly, I know you killed Larry because he was beating on you. Like I said, sometimes we have to kill people who deserve killing, and we’re often justified in doing so. It’s lying about it that makes it seem wrong.”

  After staring at me for a long moment, Judith finally took a breath and let out a long sigh. “You’re only right about two things. I am Melissa Cooper and I did kill Larry because he was beating on me, but you’re wrong about the rest.”

  CHAPTER 50

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “If you’re Melissa Cooper, then Burton has to be Drake.”

  Judith—well, Melissa—shook her head and frowned.

  “Ma’am, I need you to explain what’s going on here—and I want the truth. If Burton isn’t Drake, then whe
re is Drake?”

  “Drake’s dead.” Tears flowed down Melissa’s cheeks again. “One of the bullets meant for Larry struck Drake in the stomach and he died three days later.”

  I was confused, but I didn’t let her know it. “So, the bullet that went through the wall struck Drake while he was in his crib?”

  Melissa’s head jerked upward. “How’d you know that?”

  “I saw the crime scene photographs and figured it out.” I leaned forward and studied Melissa closely. “You killed your own son?”

  She scrubbed at the tears on her face and nodded. “It was my idea—to kill Larry—and I’ll regret that decision for the rest of my life. Rick and I had been talking behind Larry’s back and Rick knew about the beatings.” She paused to take a trembling breath. “Rick told me he loved me one night on the phone and he wanted me to leave Larry. He promised to take me away and keep me safe, but I knew Larry would eventually track me down and kill me and Drake.” She shuddered. “He was always threatening to hurt Drake if I didn’t do what he told me to do. I knew the only way to truly escape was to kill Larry, and I told Rick I was going to do it with or without him.”

  When she was silent for a long time, I asked her to go on.

  She blew her nose on a Kleenex and continued. “Rick and Larry had known each other for years and Rick had supplied Larry with heroin on a few occasions—it’s actually how I met Rick for the first time. Anyway, Rick told Larry he could get him a shipment of heroin from out of town, but he would need his usual ten percent up front. When he told Larry it would be five hundred thousand dollars worth of heroin, Larry went on a stealing spree to raise the money.

  “Once Larry had raised the fifty grand, he called Rick and told him to bring over the drugs. When Larry usually conducts his business, I go to the back bedroom. This time, I hung around the kitchen while they were talking. When Larry stuffed the packages of drugs in his gym bag and Rick had the money, I walked up and fired a shot at Larry.” She stopped and shook her head, tears flowing down her face. “I missed and Larry jumped to his feet. I freaked out and fired again and again. I kept firing even after the gun was empty and Rick had to stop me.”