Spiraled (Callahan & McLane Book 3) (26 page)

38

A low hum started among the patrol officers. Mason heard radios crackling and watched as their car lights and sirens started. Several of the patrol cars whipped out of the parking lot.

“What’s going on?” he shouted at a group of officers.

“Shots fired,” answered Sergeant Shaver, his phone to his ear. “Rivertown Mall. That takes precedence over this stakeout!” he yelled at the officers within hearing distance. “I want everyone over there. I’ll keep two vehicles here to keep an eye on this building.”

Rivertown? Again?

Mason stared at the coffee shop’s sign on the building, his brain spinning. Was Rivertown a distraction to get them away from this location? Or
 . . .

“Any injuries?” he asked Shaver.

“A mall security guard has been shot. Shooter is a tall white male in his late twenties or thirties.”

“Masked?”

“No.” Shaver got into his vehicle and started the engine.

Related to our shootings?
He met the gazes of Ray and Zander. “This isn’t right. I’ve had a bad gut feeling about this location for the last half hour.” Both men agreed. “Let’s get over there.”

Ray drove while Mason monitored the information coming in from the mall. “The security guard is dead and the mall is on lockdown,” he told the other two men. “This shooter is using a handgun and started at the other end of the mall.”

“Could be a weak copycat,” said Ray. “That’s not like our guy at all.”

In the backseat Zander nodded, his phone at his ear.

“He left the immediate mall grounds before the perimeter was established,” added Zander. “They’re saying he was running after a woman, headed toward the home improvement store that sits adjacent to the mall.”

“A woman?” Mason asked, frowning as he listened to the information from Washington County dispatch. The next report verified what Zander had stated.

“Perhaps it’s a domestic dispute,” Ray said. “This isn’t matching up.”

Zander listened intently to his phone as Mason watched him in the rearview mirror. Abruptly his gaze jumped to meet Mason’s. “Where’s Ava?” Zander blurted.

Mason’s heart stopped as he tried to get his thoughts in order. He looked at his watch. “Yoga. Or else home. She was going to try—holy fuck!”

Yoga. Mall.

He spun around in his seat.
“What’s going on?”

“I’ve got a report that the pursued woman has shouted that she’s an FBI agent.”

Her lungs begged for oxygen.

Ava ran. She’d started toward the busier section of the Rivertown Mall, but changed direction when he started to shoot. “Get away,” she’d shrieked at casual strolling shoppers. “FBI agent! Get down!” She heard a shot and glanced over as a security guard collapsed. She couldn’t lead him into crowds, so she darted down a quieter alley between two stores, knowing it fed into a narrow back road that led to the parking lot of the home improvement store next door. Its parking lot was always less crowded than the mall’s, and her immediate goal was to get the shooter away from targets.

He shot at her twice. She zigged and zagged a little, knowing how hard it was to shoot accurately while running. Her best bet was to put as much room as possible between the two of them. A rapid glance back showed her he was in pursuit. She cranked up her speed, thankful she had on good exercise shoes instead of flip-flops.

Get away from people. Hide!

She was unarmed, her weapon locked in her vehicle.

Her legs pumped automatically as she scanned her path for a place to hide. She’d felt his hate and intent the instant they’d locked gazes. The man was a predator and somehow she’d ended up on his list like the other women.

Why me?

She sped behind the buildings of the mall, passing the employee entrances and delivery docks. The sun had gone down behind the trees, and her way was lit by the stark lighting intended to keep trespassers away from the rear of the mall. She didn’t try the doors, worried they’d be locked, wasting her time. The slap of his running footsteps sounded in her ears, and she gave another burst of speed. Her path opened up into the parking lot of the home improvement store. A few cars dotted it.

Closed?

The huge sign at the end of the parking lot was off.
I thought these places never closed.

Confusion jumbled her brain.
Hide.
She scanned the lot as she ran at full speed. Adjacent to the big orange building was the garden supply area with its chain-link fence.
Hide.
She veered toward the fence, his steps still pounding behind her. Planters and sheds and barbecues lined the front of the store.

A shot made her ears ring.

She changed direction toward the front of the store as she spotted a chain and lock wrapped around the gate to the garden center.
Can’t get through.

Behind her she heard him swear and stumble. She stole a backward glance and saw him sprawl face first across the blacktop of the parking lot. She turned up her speed and darted behind the closest shed along the front of the store. He shouted and a shot ricocheted off a riding lawn mower in front of the garden center. She bent over and ran along the front of the big store, hiding behind the lines of barbecues and displays of granite for countertops. Heart pounding, she stopped behind a pallet of fertilizer bags and tried to think coherently.

The store was closed.

To her right, past the garden center, was more parking lot and closed office buildings. To her left was the lumber section and the loading docks of the store, and she didn’t know what was beyond that. Roads and businesses? All deserted because of the late hour?

No weapon. No backup.

At least I got him away from the crowds.

Her best bet was to hide. The chain link fence around the garden center rattled as someone shook its gate just yards to her right. She caught her breath and sprinted to pass the front doors of the store and head for the lumber side of the store, hoping to find a hiding place near the loading docks. Shots splintered the glass front doors and an alarm sounded inside the building. She turned and flung herself through the shattered doors. Her feet knocked the safety glass out of the lower third of the door and she tripped. She landed on her hands and knees, the glass chunks digging into her flesh, and fought to catch her breath. From the corner of her eye, she saw a woman in an orange employee apron step out of an aisle. “Get down,” she screamed at the woman as she scrambled to her feet, pain forgotten. The alarm resonated through the store, bouncing off the concrete floor and high metal ceiling. Ava dashed straight ahead, down a wide aisle, and took the first right.

She ran, searching for a hiding spot and a weapon. Ahead were automatic glass doors that led out to the fenced garden center. Not wanting to trip the doors and cause them to move, she took a hard left.

Garden tools.

She slammed to a stop and reached for the thickest wooden-handled tool. She hefted the shovel and eyed the other tools. The alarm stopped and instantly a gunshot echoed through the building.

Did he make someone turn off the alarm?

A woman started to scream. Painful, terror-stricken screams. Back in her corner of the store, Ava’s breathing was racked and loud, and the woman’s shrieks made her want to climb the walls. She tried to breathe more quietly and dark spots formed at the edges of her vision.
Screaming means she’s not dead.
She set the shovel back as a wicked long tool with forked spikes and a narrow chiseled blade on one end caught her eye. It looked like a weapon from a zombie-killing flick.

Better.

Now if she could find Captain America’s shield, she’d be set.

39

Mason, Zander, and Ray ran across the home improvement store’s parking lot to the perimeter that had been set up around the giant store by the Washington County sheriff and Cedar Edge police. Mason had tried to call Ava three times, leaving voice mails demanding she return his calls immediately. He fired off texts, asking for her attention.

He prayed her phone was off because she was attending a calming yoga class. Or she was home and in the shower or fast asleep already.

Another shooting in Cedar Edge.
Anger showed on the cops’ faces as they paced in front of the home improvement store. Violence had reared its ugly head in their quiet community for the second time within a week. Mason slowed as he saw the broken glass of the front doors. Two cops dragged out a shrieking dark-haired woman as others covered them, their weapons trained on the inside of the big store. They pulled the woman to the side of the entrance, protected from the interior by the heavy walls, and immediately started administering aid. Her screams settled into a low wail.

His gaze locked on her hair, Mason numbly pushed through the line and was grabbed by Ray. “Let go!” He shook off Ray’s hand.

“That’s not her! Look at the orange apron!”

Mason stopped and squinted. Ray was right. The police were clearly assisting an employee. “What happened?” he asked the closest Cedar Edge cop.

“We got reports of shots fired from the mall, but the shooter ran behind the mall and over here. He was chasing a woman. According to that employee”—he nodded toward a balding man speaking with Washington County deputies—“the store was locked up and someone shot out the front doors. A woman ran in and the shooter came in next. He made the female employee turn off the alarms and then shot her and headed after the first woman toward the back of the store.”

“Are there more people in the store?” Mason asked.

“He said there should be two more employees, but we haven’t seen or heard from them.”

“What’s he carrying?” asked Ray.

“All we know is a single handgun. He’s wearing cargo shorts, so it’s possible he has another weapon stashed, and the witness says he wasn’t carrying anything larger.” He paused. “The woman he’s chasing is unarmed.”

“Description of the woman?” Mason’s heart pounded in his head.

“Dark hair. Ponytail. Workout clothes.”

“Fuck. Was he
sure
she’s not armed?” Mason swallowed hard, knowing full well Ava wasn’t armed; she would have immediately shot the asshole instead of running away.

Travis quietly trod down an aisle of cleaning agents. The screaming woman up front had left the building. He’d heard the sirens of the police cars and the shouts outside for him to exit the building. He ignored it all. He had his prey cornered in this building, and he wasn’t leaving until he’d finished his mission.

She’d screwed everything up. When she’d stepped out of the yoga studio a solid half hour before he’d expected her, he’d frozen. She’d stared directly into his eyes and her recognition had been immediate. She’d known exactly who he was and what he’d done. Shock and anger had shoved his legs into motion, but she was fast and had reacted a split second before him. She’d sprinted away as if she had the devil on her heels.

If she only knew.

No woman will show me up again.

This agent had gotten lucky when she’d uncovered the clothing that he’d left in the bathroom. And it was probably her smiling face that had convinced Simon Goethe to lie to him about being in position for the Starbucks setup. The police had only temporarily fallen for his ruse at the Starbucks and had responded quickly to the mall, but he wasn’t stopped yet. He would see it through. His goal was in this building. All thoughts of stealth and cunning and hiding were gone. His months of elaborate setups to punish the other women suddenly felt cowardly. Intelligent, but spineless. His blood caught fire with excitement as he searched for his target.

He wanted revenge.
Now.

He didn’t care what happened to him next, but he wasn’t going to let a woman be his downfall.
She will pay
.

“This is Sergeant Shaver with the Washington County Sheriff’s Department. Please put down your weapon and exit the building through the front doors,”
came from a bullhorn outside the store.

Travis blinked. The sergeant sounded exactly like the guy from the TV truck commercials. He ignored the command and continued his search.

He’d shopped at this store at least a dozen times. He had a general idea of the layout and was pretty certain the only exits were in the west corner of the building, in the front, and through the garden center. He had to track her down before she reached one. He knew the garden center was locked up. He’d shaken the outer gate a few moments before he’d shot out the glass of the front door while aiming at the fed. If he were in her shoes, he’d stick to the outside aisles of the store, circling around until he reached an exit.

The odor of new carpet touched his nose as he padded past the home decor, scanning the nooks and crannies of the shelving for hiding places. He walked quietly but didn’t hide. His prey was unarmed, and he was the skilled hunter. He would win.

Ava slunk along the aisle that ran the length of the back of the store, cautiously glancing down each perpendicular aisle before dashing across. She rapidly peeked around the corner of an aisle of paint supplies, holding her breath. Clear. She darted to the next aisle’s endcap and followed the same process. Slowly moving toward the other end of the store. She spotted a sign for bathrooms at the back wall of the store. Would there be an exit, too?

Two more aisles to get across first. The comforting smell of cut wood blended with the acrid odor of fertilizer. Even if she’d been delivered to the store with her eyes covered, she would have known instantly where she was by the smells. She could picture the parking lot full of police and their perimeter forming around the home improvement store. Knowing there were dozens of people who had her back gave her some confidence. But she had to get to them while avoiding the man with the gun. She tightened her fingers around her gardening tool, mentally practicing a strong high swing. If she came face-to-face with the shooter, she’d have to act instantly. Any pause would mean her death.

First rule of gunfights: Avoid gunfights.

Second rule: Bring a gun. Preferably two. And all your friends who have guns.

Her goal was to follow the first rule.

The shooter’s actions had triggered the last part of the second rule. Good people were outside.

“Put down your weapon and exit the building backward with your hands on your head.”

Ava pictured Sergeant Shaver glaring over his bullhorn, and wondered if Mason and the rest of the task force were close by.

Mason. Does he know I’m the shooter’s target?
She couldn’t dwell on how he must be feeling. He probably wanted to both shake her and kiss her at the same time.

If only she’d been armed. She slapped a hand over her mouth as hysterical laughter bubbled up in her throat. Twice now she’d needed to be armed after a yoga class. A choking garbled sound came from her mouth as she fought to control her reaction to the irony. Maybe she could start a new trend: guns and yoga. She grabbed a chunk of her lip and pinched hard, the pain silencing the need to laugh. Tears threatened, and she sucked in deep breaths.

Focus.

She did her peek-and-dash to cross the next aisle and ended up across from an alcove that housed the doors to the bathrooms. An
E
MPLOYEES
O
NLY
sign hung on a third door. With a quick glance to the right and left she crossed the rear aisle and grabbed the knob.
Please lead to a break room and rear exit.
The door was locked. Her heart skipped two beats, and she whirled around to dash back to the end of the aisle. She didn’t want to be cornered in the alcove.

Keep moving.

A rapid glance down the next aisle revealed her chaser. She yanked her head back and tried to melt into the endcap display of garbage disposals. He was in the center aisle that ran parallel to the aisle she was following along the rear of the store. Tall. Armed. Moving in the same direction as she. She shuddered, thankful he’d been looking in the opposite direction when she’d taken a glimpse. She slid down to a crouch, fighting the desire to crawl between the boxes of garbage disposals and hide. But she wasn’t two feet tall. Her vision started to tunnel, and she focused on the deadly head of her weapon, imagining it swinging into his brain.

She could do that.

His steps sounded closer; now he was in the aisle around the corner from her.

Mason watched the two four-man teams get ready to enter the store.

Here we go again.

It was all too similar. He stood on the outside, powerless, while Ava was inside. No reassuring text messages this time. And there was another big difference. This time they had a good idea of whom the shooter was after. His balls-out chase out of the mall and into the home improvement store was a clear indicator that he was after something he wanted. The shot-out doors and broken glass told Mason volumes. Their killer had it in for Ava.

Why?

When had Ava popped up on their shooter’s radar? She’d spoken to him the day of the mall shooting, but he hadn’t shown any interest in her at that time. Clearly the shooter had a past history of targeting women who carried weapons, but was that the sole reason? Counting Ava, three of them were in law enforcement. The odd woman out was a shooting instructor—and the first victim. What had happened to make him target these women?

And would they find more women when they dug in his past?

Shaver had told him they were giving the shooter a small window to respond favorably. This man had made his mission clear from the shootings in the past and had lost all benefit of the doubt from law enforcement. They would ask; if he didn’t respond correctly, they would act.

“We are sending teams into the store. Put down your weapon and you won’t be harmed.”

The teams readied their shields and helmets and entered the store.