Authors: Lori Leger
He reached into his pocket to feel the tools of his obsession. His zip pouch contained a few basics, plus a syringe full of
Ketaset
. He’d need her nice and quiet for transfer. All part of the plan, though he drew the line when it came to weapons. No guns, knives, or anything else...a soldier didn’t need weapons against civilians. Where’s the honor in that? He preferred to rely solely on his other strengths to make women succumb to his will.
He could hardly wait to see how Carrie, by far the strongest of any of his targets, would react to him. He knew she wouldn’t plead for her life, but would she show fear? Maybe at first, but then he’d see the one thing that separated her from the others...that spark of determination not to show it.
***
That Friday night had all the signs of being a long, slow night on the job for Rob
Ledoux
. He sat at his desk, working, short-handed because of officers out taking vacation leave. It was either take it before January first or lose it, but why did people save it for the end of the year, every year, without fail? Being chief didn’t mean squat in a town the size of Gardiner, especially not when seventy five percent of your force was either taking vacation time or on sick leave.
Rob couldn’t fault Tim for calling in sick for the first time in a year. The man had never asked for extra time off. He never complained about the hours he worked. He was a model employee.
So, why can’t I get myself to like the son of a bitch?
That very morning, he’d told Mona there were two things about Tim Hardin that irritated the living hell out of him.
First, he never cussed, not even the occasional damn or hell. He could handle it if the guy didn’t seem to look down his nose at anyone else who
did
. He shook his head, wondering for the six hundredth time, how a man who puffed his way through two packs of cigarettes a day, didn’t cuss.
Second, the bastard printed everything. What the hell was wrong with longhand? And it wasn’t even normal printing. It was neat, precise block letters that would have made Rob’s first grade teacher, Ms. Madeline, do the
eff-ing
halleluiah dance. Regardless, it didn’t make Tim a bad employee and he sure as hell couldn’t fire him for either of those things.
Rob stretched back in his chair, bored out of his mind and glanced over at the dispatcher. Fairly new to the job, Henrietta was older than Rob by fifteen years and a feisty old broad.
“Henri, did I get anything from Charlie Walker at Kenton P.D.? He called me at home today asking about a fax he sent. Something about a picture of a message scratched onto Carrie
Jeansonne’s
windshield. When I told him I hadn’t seen any fax, he said he’d resend it...in case it got lost.”
Henrietta looked up from her romance novel of the week. “I put two faxes in your incoming tray. One is that picture you’re talking about, but it’s the first I’ve seen of it.”
“I just checked, and there’s nothing but old
payro
—”
“The new, clear one I put on the wall.”
“The wall?”
“Yep, so it doesn’t get covered up from all the crap on that un-natural disaster you call a desk.”
Rob turned to the wall and spotted the tray. “I guess that is better,” he said, reaching for the messages. He scanned the message from Charlie. Info on the truck that almost hit the kids wasn’t much help. Gardiner was a farming community, full of trucks with that description. Hell, two of his officers drove them.
He threw the message on his desk and flipped the fax, a black and white picture. Rob leaned forward to get a better look, and then cussed up a blue streak that made his dispatcher come running.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?”
***
He re-checked his watch.
Eleven o’clock and no sign of movement anywhere in the quiet neighborhood.
No cruiser tonight, no need to use a window. He crept silently to the door, knowing the unlit area and his dark clothing kept him hidden from sight. Once he’d lubricated the door’s hardware, he picked the lock and walked through the portal. His palms itched with anticipation as he took several steps toward Carrie’s bedroom. He paused, sensing their presence before he heard the warning.
“Hold it right there.”
He turned slowly, seeing two guns on him, and smiled, a little surprised to be out maneuvered by a handful of small town cops. He could kill them all...easily...but that risked blowing his cover. Luckily, he’d been the only one in the office when that fax came in. His reputation was pure as the conscience of a new-born baby. Nope, better to escape tonight and have a better shot at Carrie tomorrow, even if it meant letting these fools live. He watched as a third man came out of Carrie’s bedroom while someone from inside the room shut and locked the door. One by one, he stared them
down,
too easily giving himself the time he needed to map his escape. “Never underestimate a red-neck cop,” he said.
“Lay face down on the floor with your hands behind your back,” one commanded.
He nodded slowly. “That’d be one option...”
“Don’t do anything
stupi
—” the man on the right began, just before the single kick dislocated his jaw.
He lunged through the door with two remaining officers hot on his trail, skidding to a halt as he saw the two officers blocking his path. He spun around and ran for the back yard, jumping the fence even as he heard Carrie’s command to something named Lucas.
He’d seen a Mastiff dog once, a monster of an animal that out-weighed most men. That dog may have been the largest he’d ever seen, but the one that came barreling out of nowhere and tackled him to the ground was a close second. The huge animal pinned him on his back in a split second, as two big, front paws, and a thick, heavy body covered his own. He froze, as sharp incisors pushed into skin, and massive jaws covered his neck and jugular. He knew the dog held back just enough to prevent him from doing lethal damage. Regardless, as that beast emitted a low growl, one that sent vibrations rumbling through his throat and head, the man realized one thing. As a soldier, he’d fought the unseen evils and threats that lurked around every corner, but since becoming a man, he’d never really known fear...until now.
Carrie and Sam watched from the relative safety of her bedroom window. Spotlights flooded the area with light, revealing a man completely covered from head to toe in black. They watched as Doug walked slowly to where Lucas had the man pinned to the ground. “Good boy, Lucas,” Carrie murmured.
She heard Doug tell Lucas to “Hold,” as he pulled out his handcuffs, in the slow, steady movements she’d told him to use. The four other officers circled with their guns as he spoke to the dog. “Lucas, release,” Doug said to the dog.
Nothing.
“Lucas, let go, boy.” Lucas didn’t budge, but continued to hold the man’s throat while emitting the low, menacing rumble.
“He’s not listening to them, Sam.” Carrie pushed away from the open window and ran to the porch. She walked slowly down the steps and stopped. The men grew quiet, the only sound coming from the growling dog. “Are you ready?”
Doug nodded.
“Lucas...Release...Watch,” she commanded.
The dog immediately released his captive’s neck but stood on alert, only inches away, every muscle in his large body tensed and ready to recapture if the need arose—the ominous growl still dangerously present.
Doug rolled the man onto his stomach and handcuffed him. As he did he spoke slowly, his voice lowered an octave to keep Lucas from over reacting. “Don’t go doing anything stupid, because there’s not one of us here who can keep that dog off your ass,” he told him, pulling the man’s wool mask from his face, before jerking him roughly up to his feet. He handed him off to two more men ready to walk him to the police cruiser just arriving.
Two steps from the cruiser, Carrie watched the man in black head butt one officer and jerk free.
Lucas bolted after the escapee, even as a second patrol car sped up to the scene.
The car skidded
to a halt, and everyone ran to where the body had been thrown, all the way to the intersection. Chief Charlie Walker jumped out of the cruiser. “Christ Almighty, they came out of nowhere.”
Carrie ran up to stand beside the man’s twisted body, searching the darkness. “Where’s my dog? Lucas!” Nobody said a word as flashlights pierced the black night, searching for the dog.
Carrie held her breath, listening, waiting for some sign that she hadn’t lost another member of her family. Her sob broke the silence, followed by a plea. “Lucas. Come here boy, please!”
A faint, uneven cadence of paws hitting roadway and heavy panting had her pivoting toward the sound. “Lucas!” Carrie ran to her limping dog while every person there released a collective sigh.
The K-9 officer ran to meet her. “I need some light over here!” he called, dropping to his knees next to the dog. “Good boy.” He began feeling for breaks and other injuries.
“Please tell me he’s okay,” Carrie groaned.
“I’ll put him in my unit to bring him over to the local vet. He needs to give him a good going over, but I believe he’ll be fine. It looks like the
perp
, here, got the brunt of the hit. I think Lucas only has a sprain.”
“I was coming to let ya’ll know this was no ordinary peeping tom,” Chief Walker said to the other officers. “His name’s Tim Hardin and he’s an officer with Gardiner P.D. He’s ex-military, too.”
“He made a run for it, but if you hadn’t stopped him I’m sure that dog would have. Looks like
more’en
just his neck is broken.
“I sure as hell didn’t mean to do that,” Charlie admitted.
One of the other officers walked up holding a black zip pouch. “Hey, I found this on the road.”
Charlie Walker unzipped it and stared at the contents before he spread it wide enough for everyone to see...wire, rope, duct tape, hypodermic full of a clear substance, and regulation handcuffs.
Carrie looked up from her dog when they called Sam over. “What is that?” No one answered but the looks they gave each other said it all. “Tell me.” When Charlie brought the pouch over to her, a shiver ran through her as she studied its contents.
“He may have done this sort of thing before,” Doug said.
“I don’t think he planned on leaving here without her.”
nother
officer’s comment, even spoken in a low whisper, could be heard in the quiet of the night.