In Case of Death (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 3) (31 page)

Unsure as to what I could rationalize as good about the day so far, I asked him what he meant.

Reaching down to the ground, he stroked a piece of grass with two fingers, bringing them up in front of me and spreading them apart.

“I got a piece of him!” he grinned as he showed me the blood on them.

Chapter 76

September 29, 1999

The multitude of red and blue strobing lights refracting through the pouring rain gave our world the look of an eerie circus.

It seemed that every cop in the county had descended on the scene of the shootout. Two K9 units were among the first to arrive and promptly tried to follow the fleeing Bill with no luck, the rain obliterating any scent for the dogs to follow.

Soaking wet, Preacher and I stood under the hastily erected command tent giving our statement to a Captain in the Ripley County Sheriff’s Department. Knowing it would be unwise to bring undo attention on to Preacher, we downplayed his role to merely being that of an unwitting passenger in the car.

“Gabe!” I heard behind me, turning to find Abby running through the median before crushing me in a hug.

“What happened?” she asked worriedly as she looked me over, “Are you hurt?”

Assuring her that I was ok, she then gave Preacher a hug and asked after him also before asking again what had happened.

Explaining the attack to her, the concern on her face was promptly replaced with a grin.

“Desperate enough to attack and now on the run, he’ll start making mistakes now!”

Suddenly seeming sorry for her enthusiasm, she apologized.

“I didn’t mean to sound so happy over your attack,” she admitted, “God that sounded creepy!”

Taking her into my arms, I couldn’t help but laugh at her reactions.

“You come by it natural,” I grinned. “Besides, you’re absolutely right, he’s on the run now. We need to find him before he has a chance to recover!”

Nate came running through the rain then, in a hurry to get under the protection of the tent. Removing the hood of the rain poncho, he looked worriedly at me, and then at Preacher. Not recognizing him, he nodded at him and turned back toward me.

“You ok Gabe?”

“Yeah, no worse for wear I guess.”

“I just talked to some of the deputies,” he motioned behind him, “they think the guy had a car parked on the county road about 500 yards off of the interstate. He was probably long gone before any law enforcement even arrived on the scene.”

Abby grabbed his arm excitedly, “He is on the run Nate! His plan has been foiled and he is running out of options. We need to get back on the hunt! He’s at his most vulnerable now!”

Nodding, he looked back at me. “Are you riding by yourself Gabe?” he asked looking over to where Preacher had been.

Gone.

“Is your car ok,” he added as he scanned the area for the man he had seen earlier.

“I think the Mercedes is ok, it was a glancing blow to the back corner. I’ll be right along,” I started, looking back at the Captain. “Are we done here?” I asked the deputy.

Nodding, “We’re ok, for now Mr. Celtic. I may need to talk to you again in the future though.

Nodding, I turned and followed Abby and Nate back to the highway.

Preacher was nowhere in sight.

Pecking me on the cheek before running the final way to her car, Abby yelled back, “See you!”

Still not seeing hide nor hair of Preacher, I made my way quickly to the car, opening the door and sliding in the seat quickly to get out of the rain.

“Ready to go?” Preacher asked innocently from the passenger seat.

If I hadn’t been so tired, and my muscles so sore, I might have jumped at the sound of his voice, I could have sworn there was no one sitting there when I opened the door.

“Enjoyed your disappearing act,” I mentioned with a small smile as I turned the key in the ignition. The diesel clanked a couple of times before roaring to life.

“It’s a gift,” he mumbled, staring out the passenger window.

“And a bit of a curse I imagine,” I added, slipping the shifter into drive and getting back onto the pavement. My attention was immediately drawn to a hole in the windshield. Apparently the result of one of the shooter’s errant bullets, it was nonetheless positioned at the perfect spot to allow water to drip onto my leg.

“Abby was right you know,” Preacher said suddenly, turning back toward me. “His world is crumbling around him now, and he will probably make some mistakes. But even a house cat can be dangerous if you corner it. I think our
biggest
problem right now may be his unpredictability.”

Accelerating the car, at 40 MPH it started shaking badly. It felt like I was driving sideways down the road, the frame probably bent. Lowering the speed back to 30, the shaking settled down a bit. The old car had apparently taken a harder hit than I had believed.

“Our
biggest problem
may be just getting to Greensburg,” I said with a sigh.

Chapter 77

September 29, 1999

“Shit!” Bill screamed as he accelerated his car down the county road.

Although it hadn’t hit an artery, the Elvis-looking guy’s lucky shot was bleeding profusely, his right leg throbbing from the bullet within.

The wound had slowed his escape, and he had still been 100 yards from the car when he had heard the first of the approaching sirens. Redoubling his efforts, he picked up some added speed but then lost that advantage as he tried to scale the now wet hill leading to the county road.

By the time he had reached the car, he could hear the baying of the dogs heading toward him.

He was pissed!

“Bastards!” he screamed as he entered the interstate from the county road.

What was with these people?
he asked himself angrily as he ignored the monsoon around him and floored the accelerator.

Who do I gotta fuck to make them die!?

Still fuming, he suddenly realized that he needed to tone down his driving before it attracted too much attention. Letting up on the pedal, he slowed the car to a reasonable speed for the conditions.

He needed to get home to think, but first he needed to exchange cars at his storage barn.

Having bought the old farm years before, its one function was the use of the dilapidated looking barn as storage for some old cars and other equipment he used when he didn’t want to be recognized.

Taking the next exit off of the interstate, he drove the ten miles to the intersection of the old lane leading to the farm.

Located at the end of a dead-end road, Bill had absolutely no neighbors to contend with, which suited his purposes splendidly. Pulling up to the building, he exited the car and swung the large door open before pulling the old car in with the rest of his collection.

Pulling the door closed behind him then, he made a beeline for his workbench, finding some rags that weren’t too dirty to wrap around his wounded leg.

He had to grit his teeth when he tied off the rags; the pain was so bad that he started seeing stars in his vision. Reaching out to the workbench to steady himself, he stood still for a few minutes until the lightheaded feeling subsided.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way slowly once more to the huge door of the barn, opening it and backing out his
everyday
car before closing it again.

He headed out the lane slowly as he tried to fathom a plan for his next move.

By the time he once more reached the interstate however, he had yet to come up with anything…except anger.

Seething anger welled within his chest, and he could taste the now ever-present bile in his throat.

Deciding to put off any further decisions until he reached the solitude of his home, he let the anger fester within him.

He
would
come out of this on top!
he rationalized to himself confidently.

After all,
no one
had bested him since old Roy had sent him to the hospital all those years before.

And I’m not about to let a bunch of half-assed investigators start now!
he whispered angrily.

Chapter 78

September 29, 1999

Arriving in Greensburg, we made our way to the Eastern search zone. Pulling to the side of the first street in the development, Matterhorn, I pulled out the map and we worked through our search grid for the day.

“I’m with Raven on this,” Preacher mumbled, “I don’t think he will be here, showing off his wealth and sponsoring tea parties and such.”

I laughed at Preacher’s assessment, and told him I agreed with him, but that we needed to continue with our due diligence on the case.

I could be wrong after all.

Mumbling to himself, Preacher seemed to settle in for the long and boring process ahead.

***

Meanwhile, in the Western zone of search, Abby and Nate weren’t having any better luck.

“C’mon,” Nate pleaded, “It’s my turn to drive! If I have to sit in this seat for another hour looking at house after house…I’ll go crazy!”

“No-can-do bucko!” Abby exclaimed as she made a turn into another cul-de-sac, “My car, my rules. Besides, you were ok with it when we started.”

“That was yesterday!” Nate nearly whined, “How could I know that I would be signing up for days of this!”

Abby shook her head.

“Nate, seriously, concentrate on the search!”

“And that’s another thing; we still don’t know what we are even looking for!”

“A plain looking house, average, the more average the better?” he questioned with annoyance.

“Seriously? Every house we have looked at matches that description!”

Reaching over, Abby patted Nate’s leg.

“If Gabe thinks it is a plain looking house, it probably is. Don’t forget that we are also looking for something around it that looks out of place.”

“Well, I doubt it will be a rusted out car like he suggested. Local ordinances would prohibit such a thing.”

Abby nodded, “And that’s why we keep looking for something else.”

Nate grumbled, hunching himself lower in his seat as he started looking once more out the passenger window.

“You’re incorrigible,” he mumbled as he eyed the next house.

Abby just grinned.

***

A Porsche flew by our car, the third one we had seen that morning. I craned my neck to glance at it in the side mirror, but couldn’t make out anything that seemed hokey about it.

“Lots of well-to-do people here,” Preacher observed, “Lots of high-priced toys.”

Nodding, I took the next left onto Alpine.

“It’s what some people live for, the trappings of wealth,” I answered evenly, watching a stately Tudor slide past my window.

There was silence for a few minutes before Preacher continued.

“What do you live for Gabe?”

I was taken aback by the question.

“What do you mean Preacher?” I asked with a questioning glance toward his side of the car.

“I’m not trying to be nosey Gabe, I was just wondering what you aspired to in this life besides being a successful investigator?”

I was momentarily stumped.

I hadn’t given much thought to anything as far as a future went since I had lost Betty. It seemed I had been living my life mostly reacting to any situations as they arose.

I went to Peru because I wanted to get away from life.

I came back only because my partner Frank had been killed.

I hadn’t thought of children in years, now I had Abby.

I hadn’t given any thought to quitting the Prosecutor’s, yet had done so easily.

When Abby suggested we go into business together, that’s what we did.

None of it planned, none of it thought out.

“Umm,” I started, evading an answer, “Why don’t you tell me
your
aspirations first Preacher. You already know more about me than I do about you.”

Smiling, Preacher leaned back comfortably in his seat while still keeping his eye on the passing houses.

“Oh, mine are pretty simple Gabe.” Holding up the ever-present Bible, “I found the Lord, and I aspire to follow his word daily…sometimes with less success than others I’m afraid.”

I smiled at his admission.

“When I arrived here, my only aspiration was to escape running a bookstore…and to find you. Other than that, I strive only to live a quiet life of studying the Bible and working on my hobbies. And of course I would like to avoid anyone collecting a bounty on my corpse.”