by DJ Steele
The pungent smell from the muzzle filled her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut.
A loud pop echoed in her ears. Then another.
I’m dead, she thought.
Kneeling down he placed his hand on her trembling shoulder, his chest heaving in and out. "Laquita, you okay?" Shockley asked.
When her eyes popped open, it startled him. She took a hard look at the dead man lying next to her. Laquita's lower lip began to quiver.
"Wha–." She burst into tears.
"I figgered he’s gonna kill me after I hit him with my elbow."
"That was very brave of you." Shockley looked at her bloody sleeve. "You’ve been wounded." He took her hand and pressed it against the wound. She cried out.
"Keep pressure on your arm.," instructed Shockley. "Help is on the way."
She slowly nodded. With tears streaming down her face she said, "Thanks for savin’ my life."
He felt a hand tug on his arm. He turned and saw Julia breathing hard, her face pallid. She pushed around him.
"Laquita are you okay?"
"She’s fine. Looks like she got…"
Laquita interrupted, "I can’t believe ya shot me, Julia. I told ya not to shoot. Ya coulda killed me."
"I’m sorry Laquita. I had a clear shot, but you moved."
"For cryin’ out loud. I said don’t shoot. Ya shoulda listened. That crazy maniac was choking me, he’s shootin’, you shootin’. I’m smack dab in the middle. I can’t believe ya shot me."
"I said I’m sorry."
"I’m gonna bleed to death."
"You’re not going to bleed to death," Shockley reassured Laquita as he stood next to Julia. "Julia did the right thing. If he’d got you in his car, he would’ve killed you."
Shockley hated being in the crosshair of two women in such an emotional state. He continued, "Both of you were brave tonight. Julia stood up to the man holding you hostage and Laquita slugged the shooter so he couldn’t take a shot at you, Julia."
"I wondered why he didn’t fire when I ran. Thank you, Laquita."
Laquita softened and added, "I guess we both done good."
Julia dropped beside her friend and hugged her. Laquita winched. "Watch the arm. You gettin’ blood on ya."
They hugged again. "You’re going to be okay, Laquita. We’re going to be okay." Tears rolled down her cheek.
When Julia straightened, her bright blue eyes stared into his. "Thank you, Detective. Your words are kind, but I’m responsible for the man murdered at the park. I was supposed to meet him tonight." Her face twisted in distress. There was a trace of pain in her deep blue eyes. "And I put my friend’s life in danger."
He had a strong urge to draw her next to him. Wrap his arms around her and comfort her. He wished he could read her.
"You can’t blame yourself for all of this. There were things you had no control over."
"Thanks again, Detective Shockley. If you still want the photos, they’re in my backpack."
"Thanks. The photos might help us make a positive I.D. that this guy is the one responsible for the Willow Oaks murders."
The night air filled with sirens and strobes of flashing lights.
Blues were screeching to a stop all around them. Uniforms jumped out of their cruisers and started securing the scene. Shockley yelled for medical help. Two paramedics rushed over carrying their jump-bags.
"You okay?" asked a male responder to Julia.
"She’s fine. I’m the one over here dyin’," moaned Laquita.
Shockley couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face.
Chapter Fifty-One
Julia was instructed by the receptionist in the emergency waiting room to take a seat. The receptionist said she’d call her when Laquita was ready to be discharged or moved to a room. She found a chair in the overcrowded area sandwiched between a man who appeared to be asleep and a woman with a red nose clutching her purse and a box of Kleenex tissues in her lap.
The paramedic who examined Laquita at the crime scene told her she’d be okay. The bullet had exited her arm. He explained that after the E.R. doctor examined her they’d have more information.
Julia’s thigh was sore from the bullet that grazed it. The medic at the scene cleaned the wound and put a sterile adhesive dressing on it. He told her she was lucky. It was a minor wound that wouldn't need any other treatment.
Julia glanced at her watch. It wasn’t as late as she felt it should be. She still felt shaky. How could all this have happened in such a short amount of time? She replayed the shoot-out scene in her mind. She had told Laquita she had a clear shot of the shooter’s chest, but did she? Everything happened so fast, it was a blur. Her foot began tapping the floor.
Seconds counted in a shoot-out. A single second could be the difference between living or going to the morgue. She hesitated once and somebody died. That person was the man whose business she now owned. Perhaps if she had acted faster, she could have saved his life. That’s why she took the shot tonight at the man holding Laquita hostage. She had made a promise to herself never to hesitate again. And now her friend was angry with her. She dropped her face into her hands. The outcome could have been worse.
There was an orchestra of coughing, wheezing, and moaning sounds from the people waiting to be seen by doctors. She wasn’t sure how long this was going to take, but by the tired weary look of the people surrounding her, she figured she’d be here a long time.
All her energy had drained, and she was no longer able to focus on what had happened.
Tomorrow morning she had to go to the police station and give a statement. But currently she was fighting to keep her eyes open. If she stayed seated much longer, she’d fall asleep. Maybe there was some place close by to get coffee.
She stood and walked over to the check-in counter. The receptionist on her cell phone glanced up. Dark circles under her eyes made her look the same as Julia felt. Exhausted. There was a large mug on the counter next to the woman. She could smell the aroma of coffee. It smelled good. Just what she needed.
"Excuse me, where could I get a cup of coffee?"
The petite Black woman pointed to a small table in the far corner. "Free coffee over there."
"Thank you. I could use a good cup of coffee."
"Then don’t get it from over there. The stuff down here sucks. You can get the good stuff on the third floor of the hospital. There’s a Starbucks that should be…" She checked her watch and continued, "open for thirty more minutes."
"Third floor in the main hospital?"
"Uh-huh. Go to the main lobby and take the elevator up."
"I’m here for Laquita Morrison. Would I have time to get something to drink before they call me?"
"Look around, honey. You got lots of time."
Julia pressed the UP button by the elevator door and waited. She glanced at the digital display above the door. The elevator was on the fifth floor and descending. A woman in scrubs walked up and stood next to her. They shared a polite smile and then the woman began double thumbing her cell phone.
Rocking from toe to heel she wondered if her blood sugar had dropped. She had a headache and her legs felt unsteady. A coffee fix was needed. Some food would be nice too.
A ding announced the elevator had arrived. Thank goodness. She couldn’t get that cup of coffee soon enough. When the elevator door slowly slid open, she moved over to allow a woman to exit. She caught a glimpse of the attractive young Black woman who barged past her. The woman in scrubs stepped inside the elevator and Julia followed. The woman pressed the fourth-floor button and asked her what floor she was going to.
It was as if a lightning bolt struck her groggy head. She reached around the woman and frantically mashed the lobby button over and over to stop the closing door.
"Come on," she muttered, but it was too late. The elevator was headed to the next floor.
"Are you okay?" asked the woman in scrubs.
"No." She pressed the button for the second floor.
The elevator stopped on the second floor and before the door fully opened, she darted out. Her eyes searched for stairs. "Where are the stairs? I need to get to the lobby," she shouted to the woman in the elevator.
The woman in scrubs held the elevator door open, yelled at her and pointed to the left.
Down in the lobby she made a beeline past the elevators and out the main entrance doors. Her eyes searched the area desperate to see the woman she saw exit the elevator. There were plenty of lights illuminating the parking area. She saw a couple getting in their car and a SUV drive past. Suddenly, she saw a woman hurrying toward the far end of the lot. It had to be her.
She ran hard-and-fast toward her. The woman began running. The woman stopped next to a white car and opened the door.
Julia yelled, "Kat… Lejeune… stop." Lejeune turned and looked directly at her, then quickly jumped in the car.
Julia kept running. She heard the engine fire up and then screeching tires.
She stopped. She could see her breath in the cold air. Her chest was heaving. Standing there trying to catch her breath, she watched the taillights get dimmer and dimmer. Soon the car was out of sight.
She threw up her hands and stomped her foot against the pavement.
Kat Lejeune had gotten away.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Shockley walked into the 24-hour mom and pop cafe. The first smell to hit him was the aroma of cinnamon and vanilla. Near the door was a display case featuring an assortment of homemade breads, cakes and pastries that made his stomach growl just looking at them.
But tonight, that’s not what brought him here. Chief Nowakowski called him before he left the crime scene and ordered him to meet here.
He spotted Wheels in the back corner. The man still had the look of a Ranger from the waist up. Always clean-shaven, and a gray high and tight haircut. He had a thick neck, strong arms and a broad chest. Years in a wheelchair had taken a toll on his leg muscles.
Glancing around he saw there weren’t many people in the shop at this late hour. Good.
A medium built man with collar-length mousy hair stood at the front counter ordering some specialty drink to go. The young girl behind the counter looked like a college kid working to help pay for her education. There was a young couple at a table near the window. Hauser would call them hipsters.
He moved past the patrons to the back of the shop where Wheels was waiting.
"Chief." He didn’t want to use his nickname. Not with that look on Wheels' face.
"Got you a coffee," said Wheels.
"Thanks." He pulled the chair out and sat wishing he had Wheels' oversized desk between them right now.
"You okay?" asked Wheels.
He shrugged, then answered, "Rough night."
Shockley wrapped a hand around the warm mug. He took a swallow. The warm liquid knocked the chill down. He kept the mug in his hand and took another long pull on his coffee.
After he sat the mug down, he released a sigh.
"We lost another Blue," was all he could manage to say. Wheels already knew that, but he needed to remind himself. This case was taking a toll on him.
"How bout you bring me up to speed." Wheels leaned back in his chair. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Shockley.
Wheels knew how to make anyone sweat.
Shockley read him in starting with the call he received of a probable homicide through the events leading up to him killing the man who had held Laquita hostage.
Wheels snapped, "You were told in no uncertain terms to stay away from Julia Bagal. What the fuck were you doing?
"I beg your pardon?" He cocked an eyebrow. His tone changed, not for the better. "Are we no longer allowed to investigate a homicide?"
Wheels tapped his finger on the table in front of Shockley. "I got my orders from the mayor who said I was to cooperate fully with the Feds, no questions asked. You were told to back off. What’s wrong with you? You begging to get kicked off the force, along with shit-canning my career? Cause after that stunt you pulled tonight that’s a real possibility."
"I saw a crime in progress near a homicide scene I was responding to and I took action. It was pure happenstance that it turned out to be Julia Bagal. We both know that what went down tonight has nothing to do with that National Security bullshit the Feds are feeding us."
"At this time, we don’t know jack-shit. For all we know, that fucking cop killer could be a foreign government’s hired assassin or some home-grown terrorist plotting the next 9/11. Maybe Julia Bagal was the best lead they had until you fucked it."
"The guy I killed tonight wasn’t a national security threat."
"And exactly how would you know that?"
"Sooner or later this is gonna come back round to me."
"What boneheaded thing did you do?"
"Remember Amy Miller?"
"Sure I do. She died two years ago from breast cancer. She was a damn good cop."
"Amy was his T.O."
"Wha? Amy was his training officer? The same guy you just put a bullet in his skull? He’s one of our own?"
"No. He was a cop. A bad cop" He took another swig of coffee and continued, "Amy and I were friends and she asked me for advice."
"What kind of advice?"
"After working with him, Amy sensed the guy had some serious mental issues and wanted him re-evaluated. He was getting more aggressive in their arrests. She asked my opinion and I agreed."
"Who is he?"
"Darius Johnson."
"Must have been before I became Chief." Wheels picked up his coffee mug and took a slug.
"He flunked his psych eval and was let go."
"And what? He had a hard-on for cops?"
"He was pissed and blamed some of us for what happened. He was involved in a case I worked afterwards. It was an altercation where he chased a couple of guys down in his car claiming they cut him off on the road. When I arrived on the scene, Darius had been shot in the leg. One of the two guys was down and later died at the hospital. Darius claimed self-defense and got off."
"And you were the arresting officer?"
"Yes."
"Shit."
"Chief, there’s no way Darius Johnson was anything but a psychopath. He’s not a terrorist."
Wheels looked away toward the large window in the shop and fidgeted with the spoon next to his mug.
When Wheels looked back, he asked, "Did Darius have a cell on him?"
"He did, but it’s password protected."
"And just how does Julia Bagal fit into all of this?"
"Not sure. We have a probable I.D. on the female vic at the Willow Oaks Motel. Hauser and I worked a crime scene yesterday. A male vic. After running his tags, we learned he had driven from Nashville to check on his girlfriend whom he hadn’t heard from in over a week. Turns out she was a freelance reporter working some big story."
"And you figure that’s our Jane Doe?"
"Officer Bone told me Jane Doe didn’t look like she belonged at the scene. Said his first impression when he saw her was that she was a reporter doing a story on drugs in our city."
"Wait a minute. Does Julia Bagal have this intel?"
"No. She was hired by somebody else to do surveillance at Willow Oaks Motel. She was to get photos of the woman’s husband cheating."
"And did the woman who hired Julia Bagal collaborate her story?"
"Julia believes the woman used an alias name. Kat Lejeune."
"How convenient. Not a very smart detective."
"She just bought the investigative business. This was her first big assignment."
"That’s an understatement." Wheels leaned back against his wheelchair, crossed his arms letting them rest on his chest. He fixed his eyes on Shockley.
"In other words, Mike, all you got is speculation. You have no hard evidence? Am I clear on this?"
Shockley knew his boss was right. "From the beginning this case didn’t make sense. If the Feds had coordinated with us on it, then maybe we wouldn’t ha
ve two murders tonight."
"Where’s Julia Bagal now?"
"She’s at the hospital with her roommate, Laquita, who is being treated for her injury. It doesn’t appear to be serious. Julia will give a statement tomorrow."
"And I better have my story straight for tomorrow. Special Agent Black will be in my office at eight sharp."
Shockley’s phone buzzed inside his jacket. He slipped his hand inside his suit jacket to silence it when Wheels told him to go ahead and answer it.
"Shockley." He held it tight against his ear not wanting Wheels to hear the woman on the other line.
He thumbed it off. "That was my sister. She said our father has been admitted to the hospital with chest pains." Shockley lied. His father wasn't at the hospital. He was home, probably in bed. His father liked to get up early and go to bed early.
Wheels tipped his mug and drained it.
"Wouldn’t happen to be the same hospital where Julia Bagal’s roommate was admitted, would it?"
"Matter of fact, it is."
Wheels slapped a ten-dollar bill on the table. "I got this. You did a good job tonight, Mike."
"Thank you, sir. That means a lot."
As Shockley stood to leave, Wheels warned, "If you continue down this path, you know the consequences. Do the right thing Mike. You’re a good cop."
"Yes sir."
"And give my best to your father." Wheels smiled.
"I will, thank you."
He walked out of the cafe wondering why Wheels hadn’t made him turn in his shield.
Chapter Fifty-Three
She couldn’t believe what had just happened as she stood staring at the disappearing taillights. The last person on earth she expected to see tonight was Kat Lejeune.
It took a few seconds for her to realize that the black woman that got off the elevator was her. By the time it clicked, it was too late. Uncovering the real identity of Lejeune and whatever her connection was to the murders had just vanished.
What was Lejeune doing at the hospital? In order to find out she’d at least need to know her real identity. This was a big hospital.