Innocent Target

by Elisabeth Rees

  “But he will hurt me if Ryan can’t find and arrest him. He’s already killed Molly. How can you protect this monster?”

  “Don’t get me wrong—I hate what he’s done. When he turned up at my back door needing to change his bloody clothes after killing Molly, I was totally disgusted. I told him that I wouldn’t help him, but he threatened to expose our crime. He told me I’d be thrown in a cell for the rest of my life and he didn’t care if the same thing happened to him. So I did something that I’m not proud of.”

  “You pinned the blame for Molly’s murder on my father.”

  “When the police found out about that text to Molly’s friend and started asking questions about Harry, I realized that with his criminal past, he’d be the perfect fall guy, so I didn’t corroborate his alibi. And I knew I was the only reliable witness for him that night. I set him up, and I’m truly sorry for that, too.”

  “But not sorry enough to turn in the real killer?”

  “Don’t you think I want to help?” he said with obvious frustration. “But I’ve got my own life to think of, too.”

  “Please, Harvey,” she begged. “Tell me who this person is.”

  His voice was high and strained. “I can’t. I really can’t. He’s dangerous. I’m leaving town to start over, away from it all.”

  “So you’re just running away?”

  “I closed the bar today and I leave tonight. My plan is to disappear and never come back. For your own safety, you should do the same thing.”

  “How can I disappear? My father is in prison serving time for a crime he didn’t commit, and I have to fight for him. I’m staying right here.”

  “The CCTV footage will almost certainly get Harry an appeal. That’s as much as I can do for him. I only hope it’s enough.”

  She heard knocking in the background, and Harvey broke off the conversation to call out, “We’re closed!” before returning his attention back to her.

  “Listen to me, Kitty, because I’ll say this only once. I’ll leave a memory stick on the bar, right at the end by the cash register. The front door will be open and you’re just gonna come right on in and take that stick. I don’t want to talk to you or discuss this any further, got it?”

  “When this CCTV footage goes public, the police will want to know why you lied.”

  “Of course, but they’ll hafta find me first. I’ll be long gone by the time they come looking.”

  Kitty’s mind raced with the suddenness of this opportunity to prove her father’s alibi. She was elated but terrified, galvanized but cautious.

  “Can I bring someone to the bar with me?” she asked. “You know it’s not safe for me to go out alone.”

  “I don’t want anybody else here, especially the police,” he said. “So you can forget about bringing Ryan along for the ride.”

  “And what if I bring him with me, anyway?”

  “I’ll be watching you arrive, and if I see you with anybody else, I’ll take the stick away and you’ll never get the footage. I’ll watch and wait for you to leave before I head out of town, just to make sure you’re okay.”

  Kitty felt slightly heartened at Harvey’s concern for her well-being, despite her bitterness regarding his lies. But could he ensure she would be safe? She knew she couldn’t risk confiding in Ryan if she might lose the chance to free her father. No matter how afraid she was, she had to go, and she had to go alone.

  “I’ll need to wait until Ryan goes to bed,” she said. “So I might not get there until eleven.”

  “That’s fine by me. The door will be open.”

  “This isn’t a trap, is it, Harvey? You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

  “It’s not a trap,” he replied. “I know my promises don’t count for much, but you have my word on that.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there soon. And I’ll be alone.”

  * * *

  Kitty drove slowly and carefully along Main Street toward the Starlight Bar. As her car was out of action, she had been forced to push her father’s old pickup out of the garage. After a year of it sitting idle, the battery was weak, but the truck was her only option.

  She was experiencing a mixture of dread and excitement, knowing that she could be minutes away from receiving proof to clear her dad. Perhaps she could even persuade Harvey to give up the name of the man he was protecting. But even as a smile curled her lips, fear forced her features into a frown. She didn’t have the memory stick in her hand yet.

  The Starlight Bar came into view, its distinctive exterior rising up at the very end of Main Street. The black building was covered with tiny white spiked shapes, meant to resemble stars in the night sky, but the decorations were weather-beaten and faded, long since past their best. Harvey spent practically nothing on maintaining his bar, and it had been losing customers for years.

  Turning into the parking lot, the first thing Kitty noticed was the smell of smoke. Then she saw a plume of it snaking from the open door, curling upward into the dark sky.

  “Oh no,” she said, jumping from the truck and pulling her cell from her pocket. “No, no, no!”

  She dialed 9-1-1, requesting the fire department and an ambulance. She didn’t know whether Harvey was inside or if he needed medical attention. Surely he hadn’t started the fire himself? Something sinister must have happened.

  “Come on, Kitty,” she said, taking her gun from her purse. “Be brave.”

  She held the weapon close to her chest, finger on the trigger, and approached the door.

  “Harvey!” she yelled into the entryway. “Are you here?”

  No reply. There was nothing else for it—she had to go inside. Not only might Harvey need help, but the memory stick was on the bar and she couldn’t let it be damaged or destroyed.

  She ran back to the pickup, pulled a cloth from the glove box and wetted it with some water from an outside tap, before holding it over her mouth. Then she walked slowly though the doorway, feeling her way along the wall in the dark. As soon as she entered the wide open space where tables and chairs sat, she saw a bright orange glow lighting up the bar area, and a searing heat hit her full in the face. The entire wooden bar was ablaze, sending the mirrored stars that covered the ceiling crashing to the floor. Bottles were cracking and smashing under the intense heat, and Kitty had to struggle to breathe behind her makeshift mask. There was no way she could retrieve a memory stick from this inferno—assuming it hadn’t been taken or destroyed already. It would be lost forever.

  But something worse was to come, because then she saw Harvey. He was lying flat on his back in the middle of the room, a gun resting in one hand and a cell phone in the other. She dropped to her knees and crawled to his side, coughing as smoke fought its way into her lungs.

  “Harvey,” she mumbled through her cloth, placing her gun on the floor and touching his face. “Say something.”

  But Harvey could say nothing, thanks to the deep hole in the side of his skull, undeniably made with a bullet. His blood was soaking through the floor, sticky and wet on the knees of her pants. He had been murdered.

  A surge of panic and adrenaline coursed through her veins and she scrambled to her feet, snatching up her gun, stumbling and falling in her haste to escape. Gripping the damp cloth tightly over her mouth, she raced for the door, knowing that it would be only seconds before the smoke would overwhelm her. Glass popped and cracked behind her, mimicking the sound of gunshots, but she kept her focus, telling herself that fresh air was just beyond the door.

  But when she reached the exit, she found it closed. Yanking on the handle, she realized with horror that it was locked and she was trapped. With the bar’s back exit blocked by the fire, this was her only chance of escape.

  She shot at the lock, but to no avail. The door wouldn’t move. In a blind panic, she started to shout and yell for help, desperately hoping that someone would hear her crie
s.

  The killer had deliberately imprisoned her, shutting her in a place that he obviously hoped would become her tomb.

  * * *

  Ryan raced into town, siren blaring. He’d received a radio call just five minutes previously from emergency dispatch, letting him know that a fire crew and ambulance were on their way to the Starlight Bar in Bethesda. When he’d learned who’d placed the call, his veins had turned to ice—the reply to his question had been “Kitty Linklater.”

  By the time he arrived at the bar, many of the townsfolk had gathered to watch the place go up in flames, some of them in their nightclothes and slippers. He also saw two paramedics standing by their vehicle. He saw no sign of Kitty.

  “Shane!” Ryan shouted, jumping from his truck and seeing his deputy talking to Frank Price. “Where’s Kitty?”

  “I don’t know, boss,” he replied, coming over. “Her dad’s old pickup truck is here so I’m guessing she’s somewhere close by. The fire crew has been delayed by a fallen tree on the highway and we’ve received orders not to go inside until they arrive.”

  Ryan looked at the wooden building, where flames were rising majestically from the roof. The large Starlight Bar sign had been burned on one edge and was now hanging by just one corner. As Ryan watched, it came crashing down onto the concrete below, splintering apart.

  He ushered the bystanders away, yelling, “This is a dangerous place right now. Stand well back.”

  He then approached the paramedics, who were standing by their vehicle in the corner of the lot.

  “I’m going in,” he said. “Somebody might be trapped inside, so please be on standby with oxygen.”

  One of the paramedics eyed the fierce blaze with concern. “You should wait for the fire crew, sir. It’s not worth the risk.”

  “Oh, it’s worth the risk alright,” he replied, turning to Nancy, who was watching the fire and shaking her head. “Can I have that?” he asked, pointing to the scarf she had wound around her neck to ward off the cold. “But I may need to tear it.”

  Nancy quickly pulled off the accessory. “Take it. Do whatever you need to.”

  Ryan gripped the scarf and ripped it right down the middle, before taking the pieces to his truck, dropping them to the ground and thoroughly wetting them with water from a bottle.

  Shane picked up one of the makeshift masks.

  “I kind of guessed you’d want to come inside with me, Shane, but you’re under no obligation,” Ryan said. “It goes well beyond your normal duties as a deputy and I’d respect any decision to remain outside.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Shane replied, tying the bandanna over this nose and mouth. “I’m there already.” He picked up an ax from the ground. “I brought this from the station. I thought we could use it.”

  “Great idea. Let’s go.”

  They approached the entrance, closed off with a padlocked chain securing the double doors from the outside. Ryan stood back to allow Shane to hack at the chain with his ax. A few swift blows saw the doors bang open, and a wall of smoke hit them full in the face.

  “We go in low,” Ryan said, dropping to his knees. “If you think you’ll be overcome, get out immediately.”

  After a thumbs-up from Shane, Ryan began to crawl inside, feeling his way along the warm wood, hearing smashing noises coming from the bar—bottles and bar glasses shattering in the heat. Kitty could be anywhere in this building. He didn’t have a clue where to start, and his eyes and throat were already burning from the thick acrid smoke. He was functioning on a wing and a prayer, hoping that he would somehow be able to sense her presence and that he would find her alive. He filled his lungs with as much smoke-laden air as he dared and lifted his mask.

  “Kitty!” he bellowed into the gloom. “Where are you?”

  * * *

  Kitty was slumped on the floor of the men’s bathroom, unable to see much in the smoky blackness. She had managed to wedge some towels beneath the door to slow the intrusion of smoke, but without any windows in this little room, she was completed trapped, knowing that her only hope was rescue. Where was the fire department? She had assumed they would have reached the bar by now. She reckoned she had another five minutes before she passed out, another five minutes of terror before she slipped into a blissful unconsciousness. Her mind drifted in and out of lucidity and she thought she heard voices, someone calling her name.

  Then she realized that somebody was calling her name.

  “I’m here, I’m here!” she yelled between coughs, pulling the towels from the cracks beneath the door.

  Seeing Ryan’s face appear in the doorway filled her with a joy that she’d never known before. His nose and mouth were covered by a red cloth, dirty with soot, and the whites of his eyes were stark against the grime of his skin. He hauled her into his arms and held her tightly, but only for a second, because they had no time to lose.

  “Go with Shane and he’ll show you the way out of here,” he said, pulling her to the door. “Is Harvey here, too?”

  “He’s dead on the floor of the bar,” she said. “You’ll never get him outside.”

  “I can try,” he said, giving her a gentle push toward Shane. “Go! And stay low.”

  Kitty grabbed hold of Shane’s jacket and crawled, allowing him to take the lead. She lost all sense of direction in the smoke and put her faith in Shane’s hands. However, she couldn’t help but worry about Ryan, risking his life to bring out the body of a dead man. He wasn’t prepared to leave anyone behind, dead or alive. It made her realize how honorable he was.

  Crawling out into the freshness of the night was like drinking a long, cool glass of water. She gulped the air into her lungs, coughing and spluttering, collapsing onto the parking lot. A paramedic appeared at her side, attaching a mask, helping her onto a gurney and speaking soothing words. Shane sat on the tailgate of the ambulance, gasping for breath, having oxygen administered by a second paramedic.

  “Where’s Ryan?” Kitty asked from behind the mask. “Is he out?”

  The paramedic looked around. “Did the other man come out yet?” she called to the crowd. “Do any of you see him?”

  The many people around them shook their heads.

  “I have to find him,” Kitty said, removing her mask. “I can’t leave him.”

  “No, honey,” the paramedic said, pushing her back down onto the gurney. “You’re in no shape to go anywhere.”

  “Please,” Kitty begged. “Please let me try.”

  “He’s here!” a voice cried out. It was Nancy. “I see him.” Then her voice changed to one of horror. “Is he carrying Harvey? Oh my, is Harvey dead?”

  The paramedic treating Kitty firmly repositioned her mask, saying, “It’s important that you don’t go anywhere, okay?” She then called over to her colleague. “I think this lady’s hypoxemic, Steve. Keep a close eye on her while I see to the others.”

  Then the paramedic rushed toward Ryan and Harvey, checking the dead man’s pulse and shaking her head. Nancy and Paul both took off their coats and laid them over the body, kneeling by his side and clasping their hands in prayer. Meanwhile Ryan was doubled up on all fours, coughing and spitting onto the ground, his chest heaving for air.

  Kitty lifted her mask and swung her legs over the gurney. Ryan needed her mask, needed her oxygen. Standing up, she tried to call his name, but could manage only a croak. Then her legs gave way beneath her and she hit the ground just as dimness closed in.

  * * *

  Ryan sat in the corridor of Southwestern Hospital, waiting for Kitty to regain consciousness. He had been praying for her while he waited. Finally, he heard Kitty’s voice ring out loud and clear. And she wasn’t happy.

  “I want to go home,” she was saying. “I have important things to do.”

  “You inhaled a lot of smoke, Miss Linklater,” the doctor said. “As a precaution, I think we should monitor y
ou for a few more hours. It’s already 2:00 a.m., so you might as well stay the night.”

  Ryan rose from his seat in the hallway and walked to the open door of her room. Only family was permitted in her room while she was unconscious, but she could accept visitors now that she was awake.

  “Ryan,” Kitty said, clearly pleased to see him. “Will you tell the doctor that I’m okay to go home? I’m fine now.”

  Ryan shrugged, letting the doctor know that neither of them had any authority where Kitty was concerned. She had clearly already made up her mind.

  “I can’t prevent you from discharging yourself, Miss Linklater,” the doctor said, writing on her chart. “But will you at least assure me that you won’t be alone for the next twenty-four hours? Will someone be staying with you?”

  “She won’t be alone,” Ryan said. “I’ll be with her.”

  “Well, okay then,” the doctor replied, clicking her pen and facing him. “Bring her straight back in if she experiences any shortness of breath, dizziness or pain.”

  “Sure thing, Doc.”

  The doctor eyed Ryan’s blackened uniform and his grimy face. “The same goes for you,” she said. “Keep an eye on each other, okay?”

  As soon as they were alone in the room, Ryan sat by Kitty’s bedside, waiting for her to speak first.

  “I expect you have a lot of questions,” she said finally.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “The first thing you have to realize is that Harvey was murdered.”

  “We don’t know that yet. Early indications point toward suicide.”

  She let out a noise of exasperation. “Trust me—he was murdered.”

  “A suicide note was found in Harvey’s car.”

  “It was planted there.”

  “Don’t you want to know what it said?”