Protector (68 page)
Authors: Laurel Dewey
Tags: #Police Procedural, #Denver (Colo.), #Mystery & Detective, #Psychic ability, #Women detectives, #Crime, #Suspense, #Women Sleuths, #Children of murder victims, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural, #Espionage
With tears streaming down her face, she screamed, “No! I won’t!”
Chris was so deeply embedded in the moment that he didn’t hear the approaching sound of boots charging up the second ladder, directly across from where he stood. He was seconds from pulling the trigger when he caught a glimpse of motion. Chris turned, just in time to see the top of Jane’s head cresting the tower. Without missing a beat, he swung his foot off of Emily’s and aimed his gun toward Jane’s head. He fired a round, narrowly missing Jane’s left ear.
“You fucking bitch!” Chris angrily screamed as he jerked Emily up to a standing position, wrapped his arm tightly around her tiny neck in a chokehold and wedged the barrel of the gun against the kid’s temple.
Almost simultaneously, Jane rolled onto the top of the tower, pulled out her pistol and aimed it directly at Chris. The searing heat reflected off the tower and onto her prone body, issuing a burnt smell of metal. For a moment, the bright light blinded Jane. Her head spun as she held the Glock outstretched with her right hand and supported herself with her left. The visions were becoming a ghastly reality.
“Well, fuck you, Jane! Fuck you!!” Chris roared.
“Chris! Don’t do this!” Jane shouted, frozen on the hot surface of the tower.
“You couldn’t just let it be, could you?”
There was a sense of disjointed reality for Jane as if she’d already gone through this hell. She carefully stood up, lifting her left palm from the tower’s surface. In shock, she saw a depressed, backward imprint across her flesh. Glancing down, Jane recognized a domed cap with the raised date of 10-24-99. Impossible, she thought, but true. “Put down the gun, Chris,” she said, her voice low and restrained.
“Why didn’t you just tell me what this little fucker knew from the get-go? I’m your partner! You owed it to me!”
“I didn’t know anything, Chris.”
“Don’t sell me that bullshit! She was talking to you all along! Whispering her little secrets back and forth! She was talking about me! Me!”
“She didn’t know it was you until this morning!”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Chris exploded, jamming the barrel of the gun harder against Emily’s temple. Emily winced, paralyzed with fear. “All your little whispers. Like that first day when you interviewed her and she whispered her little secrets in your ear. You wouldn’t tell me! All you had to do was tell me what she said. Then I could kill her and finish the whole fucking thing. But no! You wanted to slowly nail my fucking ass to the cross. Well, I don’t sit back and roll over that easy! I won’t be taken out because of some brat blabbing to the Department! I’ve worked too hard to get taken out! Nobody takes me out! Nobody!”
“Taken out?” Jane said. “Did the mob threaten to kill you if you didn’t do their bidding? Is that it?”
“Fuck you, Jane! Nobody threatens me!”
“But they did, didn’t they?” Jane replied solemnly.
“I’m nobody’s fucking errand boy! I do my own bidding! I have power over people! I live well!”
Jane found herself glancing down to Chris’ pant leg—it was stuck on the top of his custom cowboy boots, exposing the shaft of the boot. Staring back at Jane on the shaft was the starkly stitched pattern of a wolf’s face. Jane steadied herself. Off to the left, she could see Sheriff George and his deputy plodding through the meadow and heading toward the water tower. Dan was not far behind them. Chris was so out of it, he didn’t hear them advancing. Jane looked at Chris’ bloodshot eyes. “What are you on right now, Chris?”
“I’m not on fucking anything!” Chris snarled, his voice full of rage.
“Then what are coming down off of?”
“Oh, this is rich! A fucking alcoholic telling me—”
“It’s meth, isn’t it?” Jane yelled.
“What does it matter? If it’s Sunday, it’s meth, if it’s Monday, it’s coke—”
“You’re not thinking clearly!”
“Well, I’m thinking more clearly than you! You call me on the phone and that coal train passes while we’re talking. The fucking coal train, Jane! There’s only a few towns that a coal train still goes through. You gave yourself up and you didn’t even know it! So, who’s not thinking clearly here?”
“That train covers twenty or thirty miles. Why’d you choose Peachville?”
“I’d already been doing some research with my private consultant who explained the Department’s criteria for a good safe town. So I just plugged his info into the equation. It took a couple weeks to figure out but here I am!”
“What private consultant?” Jane asked warily.
Chris smiled broadly and let out a guttural snicker. “Who do you think was keeping company with your ol’ man all those weeks when you were incommunicado?” Jane felt as if the wind was knocked out of her. “After you left, Dale and me got even tighter than we were before.”
Jane felt sick. “Before? I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t think your own dad would sell you down the river? Think again!”
“I never told him where I was going!”
“Procedure, Jane. The Department has always had the same criteria for a good, safe town. It was the same for him when he was on the job as it is now. He gave you up, Jane. It was like talking to the magic genie. That coal train just sealed the coordinates down to a smaller area. The rest was all me. Me knowing you. Me knowing how you act and what to tell the good sheriff. You’re so fucking easy, Jane. Don’t you know that?”
Emily winced as Chris dug his forearm into her neck. “Jane . . .” Emily muttered.
“Shut up!” Chris yelled at Emily, squeezing her even tighter.
Jane saw that the sheriff and his deputy had quietly taken up strategic positions next to the tower. Dan followed suit. “You want to kill somebody?” Jane shouted, trying to divert Chris’ attention away from Emily. “Kill me!”
“No!” Emily screamed.
“Oh, fuck! I thought I already did that! I thought that was you under the blanket that night. Not Martha! Christ, I gave you so many chances to look good. I had that bum with the cigarette case I took from the house. Weyler would have gone for it. But you had to throw the wrench in it. Then there was good fuckin’ ‘Christian Ron!’ You know the trouble I went through to set up that asshole? He could have gone down for it and everything would have been sweet! But you stuck your fuckin’ nose in that one, too!”
“You would have been found out one way or the other!”
“Do you mean this little bitch here?” Chris tightened his grip around Emily’s neck. “Shit! I had all that worked out! I’d wait ’til the smoke cleared and you were away from her. Then I’d track her down in Cheyenne and take care of business!”
“Chris, listen to yourself! You’re not rational!”
“You try tweaking off meth and tell me how fucking rational you are!”
Jane had to buy time. “Is that how it all started? Getting high on meth? The Stovers?”
Chris was taken aback by Jane’s words. His surprise then quickly turned into hatred for Emily. He pushed the gun barrel with more force into her forehead, leaving a circular imprint in her skin. “I knew it! I knew your dad would open his fucking mouth!” he yelled at Emily.
“I figured it out, Chris! Emily didn’t know shit! Chris! Look at me!” Jane was desperate to distract Chris. “Why’d you do it?”
“What choice did I have? You think I was gonna let that prick Stover walk into the DA’s office and give me and the others up? They thought I was doing it for them! To protect their asses! But I was doing it all for me!”
Jane observed his body language. “But they still threatened your life.”
“Fuck you!”
“Is the meth one of the perks?”
“Don’t get righteous with me, bitch! Don’t pretend you’re not an addict! You know what it feels like when you can’t get it! And you know how good it feels when you finally taste it!”
The sweat dripped down Jane’s face under the searing solar glare. “I am a drunk! But as fucked up as I am, I’ll never be as fucked up as you!”
“Oh, Jane, I look at you and it’s like I’m looking in a mirror! We know what hell looks like because we’ve been there, baby. We love the dark and the shadows and everything that goes with it—”
“Don’t shove me in your nightmare, Chris!”
“You know you love it! You just don’t want to look bad in front of the kid!” Chris pressed his lips against Emily’s ear. “You want to know the truth about your pal?”
“I don’t care!” Emily said, choking on her tears.
“Of course you care!” Chris said, jerking Emily closer to him. “She’s got a real appetite for brutality. It’s amazing she hasn’t kicked the shit out of you, ’cause she’s into serious pain.”
“It’s not true!” Emily yelled defiantly.
“It is true!” Chris stared at Jane in silence as a twisted grin crept across his face. “Emily, you love little secrets, don’t you?” he said with an eerie quiver to his voice. “Wanna know a dirty little secret about your protector? Violence runs in her blood. She likes to punch hard because she likes to be punched. She loves to get the shit kicked out of her.” Jane’s eyes widened in shock. “Gee, Jane,” Chris said with a crazed look. “Now, who do you suppose told me that little gem of family trivia?”
For Jane, it was as if the earth turned on its axis. All that had come before fell away. Every memory that had haunted her faded into the background. There was no apprehension. There was no doubt. There was no fear. There she was, standing there with both hands wrapped around the Glock. And there was Emily and the absolute knowing inside of what she had to do.
“Emily?” Jane said, as an intangible calm washed over her.
“Yes?” Emily quietly responded, fearful of what she knew was to come.
Jane focused on Chris but her innate connection to Emily was palpable. “Look at me, Emily.” Emily peered up at Jane through the reflected sunlight. If there truly was any kind of otherworldly link between them, Jane prayed her thoughts would resonate loudly. “Do you understand, Emily?” Jane asked, not quite sure if it was possible.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Chris interjected.
Jane directed every ounce of energy to Emily. “Do you understand, Emily?”
For Emily, the dream fused into the moment. “I do,” Emily replied in terror.
“Hey!” Chris yelled out. “Who’s in charge here?”
Jane raised her pistol to Chris’ forehead. “I am, Chris.” There was a whisper of silence between them, before Jane yelled to Emily, “Now!”
Jane pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Chris square between the eyes. Within that second, Emily skillfully ducked just as Chris’ finger depressed the trigger on his pistol. The bullet from his gun singed past Emily’s scalp. A surge of blood poured from Chris’ head wound, splattering across Emily’s face and shirt. Chris fell backward, his arm still tightly encircling Emily. Emily reached out toward Jane as she felt herself heading over the edge of the tower with Chris. Jane raced across the tower and grabbed Emily’s wrist, just as Chris began his fatal descent. The momentum, however, proved too powerful for Emily. Still grasping onto Jane’s wrist, Emily slipped over the rim of the tower, slamming her chest against the metal side.
Jane fell to her stomach, hanging on to Emily’s wrist. Chris hit the ground head first, snapping his neck backward with a loud pop. Emily screamed, flailing against the side of the tower.
Emily turned her tear stained face toward Jane, slightly losing her grip on Jane’s wrist. “Don’t let go!”
“Hold on to me, Emily!” Jane ordered Emily as she let go of her Glock and slid her other arm over the side of the tower.
Sheriff George, along with his deputy and Dan, ran toward Chris’ body, kicked away his gun and called up to Jane. “I’ve radioed for help!”
“I’m gonna die!” Emily shrieked.
Jane looked down at the trio standing sixty feet below, realizing it was too risky for them to try to catch Emily. “Emily!” Jane said abruptly. “You want to live?”
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