No Rhyme or Reason

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “So, it was just a crush, not love?” I asked curiously.

  “No, just a crush. I’ve never been in love, per se. I’ve lusted after, crushed on, and had sex with a few, but never was in love with someone.”

  “Why not?”

  She glared at me for a second, then smoothed her frown, deciding that I was just interested in her life. “The right one hasn’t come along yet, I guess.”

  Until now.

  We turned the corner onto the street the church was on and a peculiar feeling, like something wasn’t right, hit me hard.

  “What’s going on?” Ruby asked, pointing at a car parked in front of the church. The front of the car was facing our way, and all the doors were open.

  “Something’s not right,” I said, speeding up then hitting the brakes when I saw a flash. A gun flash. A guy jumped back as if pushed and fell to the ground. Two other guys were trying to push a man into the car.

  “Oh, my God. That’s Jack!” Ruby screamed, scrambling to dig her gun out of her purse.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Houston Police, Freeze! – Trina Wiles

  Screeching to a halt in the middle of the street, I parked the Mustang and jumped out. “Houston Police, freeze!”

  Ruby got out on her side and used the door to shield her while pointing her gun at them.

  They shoved Jack into the back seat and one guy crawled in with him. I cocked the trigger and stood up to shoot, but the driver fired first.

  “Get down!” Ruby called.

  Instinctively, I ducked and covered, and then looked for another opportunity. Just as the driver jumped in behind the wheel, I fired at the engine. I was sure I hit it, but the car spun out, the burning rubber billowing smoke behind it as it swerved around my car and sped off.

  “I’ll check the guy, you phone it in,” I ordered, popping the trunk as I ran around the car. I pulled out my gym bag and ran for the victim. The clothes were clean, and I needed something to stop the bleeding.

  Ruby leaned back in the car and retrieved her cell phone from her purse, tapping in the number as she ran with me over to the victim.

  The man was lying across the steps, blood seeping through his white shirt. He was unconscious but breathing. The GSW was a through and through but he was bleeding pretty badly. I knelt by the man and pulled my tank top from the gym bag. Ripping it in half, I packed one piece inside the wound, then wadded up the other piece and pressed it down on the bullet hole.

  Corey came barging out of the church, his arms in the air, his robe flapping behind him. “I heard a bang, like a gunshot.” He looked down at the man I was kneeling beside. “Holy shit. That’s Alan. Was he shot?”

  “This is Alan Rogers?” I asked.

  “Yes, but where’s Jack?” Corey asked, looking at the churchgoers.

  Ruby ended the call and, holding the phone in one hand and her gun in the other, asked, “Where’s Jack?”

  “Corey, keep pressure on the wound,” I ordered, taking his hand and placing it on the bloody rag. My brother had always been the squeamish type, but he didn’t hesitate this time. “We’re going after Jack. When the EMTs get here, find out what hospital they’re taking Alan to.”

  “What about the police? Shouldn’t you call them?” Corey asked as he leaned over Alan, both hands pressing down on the wound.

  “I already did,” Ruby said. “911 will send both the police and the ambulance.”

  “Corey, if the cops say anything about us leaving the scene, tell them who I am and that I’m chasing the kidnappers,” I instructed him.

  “And tell them that Detective Wiles wants a uniform with Alan at all times,” Ruby added.

  Corey looked up at me with a frightened look on his face. “Okay, but be careful.”

  “We will,” I assured him. Then I turned and walked quickly toward the car. Mom and Dad were just walking up, and I had no time to explain to them why I was running off… again. I did at least wave as I ran by.

  We jumped in the car and I peeled out of there, much like the kidnappers had done, and shot down the street. I didn’t even take the time to put my seatbelt on.

  Pointing at Ruby’s legs, I said, “Look under your seat and hand me the police light.”

  She felt around and pulled out the medium-sized, round, magnetic light, switched it on and handed it to me. Thankfully, the batteries were still working. My car wasn’t an official police, car so I paid for the lights myself. It gets me around town quicker. I opened my window and put the light on top of the roof.

  Thankfully, it was Sunday, so there wasn’t as much traffic on the road and our suspects would be easy to spot.

  “There!” Ruby shouted, pointing out the passenger side window. “Right. Go right!”

  I swerved the Mustang into a U-turn and doubled back. The kidnapper’s car was speeding down a neighborhood street three blocks ahead of us and I stomped on the gas, closing the distance. They swerved around a corner, clipping a car parked in the street, and disappeared. They were heading toward the freeway, and if they got on there, we might lose them for good.

  Cutting across another street, racing to get ahead of them, I turned down an alley and they had slowed down, their car sputtering to a stop. Apparently I had hit the car, because the engine was puffing steam from under the hood. The car had come to a stop just as they exited the alley to the access road connecting with the freeway. As I parked my car, the driver and another man jumped out and fired at us. We couldn’t fire back for fear of hitting Jack.

  “Fan out,” Ruby ordered, darting behind the Mustang and then across to another car that had been parked illegally.

  I went the opposite way, trying to flank them. The man in the back seat with Jack got out and pointed his gun back in the car. He was going to shoot Jack. Ruby shot him first, and he dropped to the ground. The two other men panicked and took off running in opposite directions.

  “I’ve got the one on the right,” I shouted, running after the man. I didn’t have time to see what Ruby was doing. I was busy jumping over garbage cans the guy knocked over to slow me down. It didn’t. He couldn’t know that I was very good at jumping over obstacles in soccer to get to the goal.

  “Houston Police, stop!” I warned as I closed the distance.

  I could hear sirens getting louder and knew that backup was on the way, but I didn’t want to wait. Ignoring the burning in my legs, I pumped them even harder, and I finally caught up to the guy. He slowed down and turned to fire on me, but I ducked behind a trash bin just as the bullet ricocheted off of it. I peeked around the bin and fired back, aiming for his chest but hitting the arm holding the gun instead. That worked, too. He dropped the gun and grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t move!” I demanded, pointing my gun at him as I came out from behind the bin and walked toward him. I kicked the gun away from him and then reached for my handcuffs. I wasn’t carrying any, but as bad as he was bleeding, I didn’t think he was going anywhere.

  With my eyes and gun pointed at him, I squatted down and picked up his gun. I tucked it into my belt and waved my gun for him to start walking.

  FBI, Stop! – Ruby Grace Sutherland

  We have to announce ourselves; “FBI, stop!” but they never do. In my field training, I had to take down a three-hundred-pound man using nothing but my body. He didn’t move; he didn’t have to. He was a big lump on legs, smiling down at me. At first, I was pissed, bouncing off his chest like a rubber ball. Then I focused and came up with a plan. I kicked the back of his knee, and he went down like a rock and I came around and elbowed him on the nose. There was a lot of blood, and he fainted at the sight of it. I got a commendation for my quick takedown. Of course, I wasn’t wearing a dress and heels at the time.

  When I first started physical training, I had an instructor who didn’t like me. At least, that’s what it felt like. He had a drill sergeant mentality and would yell at me that I’d never be an agent if I ran like a girl. So, I began running with heels on. My thinking was to show him
that not only could I run, but I could also run in high heels, something he could never do. The painfully hard work paid off. He was impressed.

  The guy I was running after weighed at least 250 and had more muscles than I did. Thankfully, he wasn’t a fast runner, and I caught up to him pretty quickly. As I ran toward him, gripping my gun firmly, he turned and prepared to fire. He was too slow and I flew into his midsection, bouncing off like a rubber ball, my dress flying up over my head. But it was enough to stun him so that I could get behind him and kicked his knee out. It didn’t work.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “I’m gonna make you my bitch, little girl,” he boasted, turning to face me.

  Before he could turn all the way around, I kicked his knee at an angle as hard as I could with the heel of my shoe, and it impaled him. He screamed and went down on one knee, my shoe dangling from his leg. He raised his head and glared at me, and I stuck my thumb in his eye. He dropped his gun and grabbed his face.

  “You’re dead now, bitch!” he shouted and reached for his gun.

  Before he could pick it up, I elbowed him in the nose. The thing about being short when you have a man on his knees is that everything is within reach. I pummeled him with a one-two punch, making sure I kept moving so he couldn’t grab me. Another elbow to his nose and when I heard it snap, I knew I’d broken it. A roundhouse kick to his head, then an elbow to his throat and he finally went down.

  “Now, you’re my bitch, you bastard.” I picked up his gun and, having no place to put it in my dress, I held it in one hand and my gun in the other, like one of those a gun-toting mamas in those old black and white movies.

  As I marched him down the street, hobbling on one shoe, I saw Trina running toward me, her gun in her hand. She had a panicked look on her face until she saw me step out from behind him.

  “Are you all right?” she called.

  “I’m fine,” I shouted back.

  She caught up to us and looked at the perp, bleeding and whining about the fact that he was bleeding. “Damn. You did all that?” she asked, scrutinizing me like a battlefield medic searching for injuries.

  “I’m fine,” I said again.

  “I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have let you go after him alone like that.”

  “As you can see, I didn’t need your help,” I responded gruffly.

  “Yeah, I can see that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume that you couldn’t handle him. It’s just that this is your first bust after… well, you know.”

  After the rape. “Oh… gosh, I didn’t even think about that.”

  “That’s probably a good thing,” she said. “Is it okay to say that I’m really proud of you?”

  Smiling, I nodded. “It was not only okay but very much appreciated.”

  “And that I find you really sexy holding two guns like a badass gun moll.”

  The suspect mumbled something but I couldn’t understand what he said. His face was starting to swell up, and it was hard for him to talk.

  “You have the right to remain silent, so shut the fuck up,” Trina warned him. She held her hand out for the extra gun and tucked it into her belt, alongside the two other guns.

  “And may I say I’m a bit tingly looking at all that hardware you’re packing,” I stated flirtatiously.

  She grinned and hiked up her pants. “Thanks. I just hope my pants don’t fall down.”

  “And that’s a bad thing, how?” I teased.

  “Oh, fuck, get me out of here,” the man sputtered.

  We escorted him back to the car where I saw Jack talking with a police officer. He looked no worse for wear, thank God.

  “Ruby, are you all right?” Jack asked as he looked from my prisoner to me.

  “I’m fine, sir. All in the line of duty.”

  Trina let out a guffaw, and I glared at her. “No, I wasn’t laughing at you,” she explained. “I was thinking it was far and away above the line of duty.”

  “I agree,” Jack said. “Nice dress, by the way.”

  Now I laughed, looking down at my blood-spattered, torn, and dirty dress.

  The police officer Jack was talking to, pulled out his cuffs and cuffed my captive.

  “Read him his rights, please,” I instructed. “I haven’t gotten around to that yet.”

  “Roger that,” he replied, pushing the man toward a police car. “You have the right to remain silent…”

  I looked around for the other guy but didn’t see him.

  “He’s already on his way to the hospital,” Trina said, reading my mind. “I put a bullet in him when he wouldn’t stop trying to shoot me. Though I must say, I wish I had taken him out like you did yours.”

  “It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure,” I admitted.

  “All right, you two, compare notes later. I need to get to the hospital and check on— I mean, question those kidnappers.”

  “How is he?” I asked.

  “Who?” he countered.

  “Alan, who else?” I asked.

  “Oh, uh. I called the hospital a few minutes ago, and Mr. Rogers was in surgery, but he’s going to be all right, thanks to Trina’s quick action.”

  “All in the line of duty,” Trina repeated with a grin.

  “Well, thank you, just the same,” he replied. “Like I was saying, I’m going to question your captives at the hospital, and I think you both should be there.”

  “Right behind you, Jack,” I affirmed.

  “I’m going to check on my brother and parents, then I’ll join you,” Trina said, glancing at me. “My car’s back at the church, also.”

  “Oh, yeah. Poor Corey was a bit rattled by it all,” I inserted.

  “Father Corey?” Jack asked. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

  “Corey is my brother, and he kept the pressure on Alan’s wound until the EMTs arrived.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow, obviously impressed that his young priest helped save his lover’s life. “Well, then. Isn’t that something? Looks like I’ll have to miss his sermon again.”

  “He hasn’t actually been able to give one, yet,” Trina explained, eyeing Jack closely.

  “Oh, that’s right,” Jack said. “He was supposed to give his first sermon last week, but something happened.”

  “I’ll say something happened,” Trina spit out. “Your agent, Ruby was raped. Surely, you knew about that?”

  Jack looked around at the uniforms milling about. “Later. I’ll explain everything later.”

  “Damn straight you will,” Trina assured him.

  I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t ready to face the possibility that maybe I had completely misread him. Maybe he just really didn’t care.

  Trina, still frowning, turned to me. “I’m going to get my car. You want to ride with me or go with Jack?”

  “I’ll go with you,” I answered without a moment’s hesitation. “Jack, we’ll catch up with you at the hospital as soon as possible.”

  He sighed, knowing neither of us was very happy with him. “Fine. I’ll probably be there most of the day.”

  “Fine,” Trina said and walked away.

  “Hey, don’t be mad at me,” I called after her, hurrying to catch up with her.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said, slowing her steps. “He just pisses me off.”

  “I admit, I’m worried about what he’s going to tell us, but we need to wait before passing judgment. Maybe it won’t be as bad as we think.”

  “I hope not, for your sake,” she said, slipping her hand into mine. “And I’ll try not to make up my mind about him… nope. Too late.”

  Laughing, I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it. “Well, I think he might just change your mind.”

  Trina turned my hand over and kissed it. “Again, for your sake, I hope so.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Change of Heart – Trina Wiles

  We walked back to the church and saw that most of the crowd had dispersed. Corey was talking with Mom, who was trying to clean the
blood off his robe, while Dad was talking with Father Matthew, no doubt apologizing to him for what I made Corey do. Never mind that he saved a man’s life today.

  “Oh, Trina. Are you all right, honey?” my mother asked.

  “Yes, Mom. I’m fine,” I answered and waited for the inevitable hug that didn’t come. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. Then I realized I was filthy, and my clothes were covered with blood.

  Dad slapped me on the shoulder. “You okay, honey?”

  “Yes, Dad. Corey, how about you? Are you all right?”

  “Sure. It’s been quite the morning.”

  “I’m so sorry you didn’t get to give your sermon again,” Ruby said.

  “I’m beginning to wonder if God is trying to tell me something,” Corey joked.

  “Oh, honey. You’ll give your sermon, and it will be wonderful,” Mom said, patting Corey’s back. Then she looked at me and nodded at Ruby.

  “Listen, I want everybody to meet Ruby,” I said, pleasing my mother. “Special Agent Ruby Grace Sutherland with the FBI. We’re working together on a case. Ruby, this is my Mom and Dad.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Ruby said, shaking their hands.

  “And Alan is part of the case?” Corey asked.

  “We’re still investigating, so we don’t have all the answers yet,” Ruby answered.

  “We heard that he’s in surgery right now, so we need to go,” I inserted, anxious to escape the questions I could see swirling in my mother’s eyes.

  “What a nice necklace you’re wearing, Ruby,” Mom said, pointing at the cross on Ruby’s neck.

  “Thank you,” Ruby replied, putting her fingers on the cross. “Trina gave it to me when I was… um, sick.”

  “How sweet,” Mom said, eyeing me as if she knew everything.

  “Well, gotta go,” I said again and pulled out my car keys, almost dislodging one of the guns. I waved goodbye and walked away before Mom could ask another question. I put all guns but my own in the trunk and pulled out my tennis shoes.