No Going Back (35 page)

Samuel turned the gun on the fleeing cop.

Pulled the trigger.

It dry-fired.

Cop protocol, he realised. They didn’t carry a pistol charged with one in the spout. He was unfamiliar with the gun, but it was easy to work out. He racked the slide, using his left hand, and even he frowned at the mess of it. By the time he was ready to fire the cop had thrown himself down behind another cruiser, out of sight.

Samuel didn’t care: the cop was never the primary target.

He swung around to where he’d last seen Joe Hunter.

The commotion had already spread a wave of panic through the crowd, but it was still early enough that no one was ready to halt him yet. The other cops on the scene were too busy taking up positions of cover or exhorting the civilians to get down and out of the line of fire.

He had a direct line of fire on Hunter and the two detectives who’d initially arrested him. Hunter was unarmed and the cops might as well throw down their weapons, given the lack of action they were taking.

Through the mêlée Samuel marched, his right leg unsteady beneath him and trailing droplets of blood.

He grinned feverishly as he lifted the gun and aimed it at Hunter’s face.

45

I thought that Detective Chambers was an insufferable asshole, but he was a good cop really. He was doing the right thing however lopsided you looked at his actions. I’d been captured red-handed, had discharged an illegally owned handgun, so he was duty bound to take me in. It didn’t matter that I’d just saved the lives of innocent people because the letter of the law states that two wrongs don’t make a right. I knew things would be cleared up; in fact, after a trip to the station and having my version of events backed up by all the witnesses at the scene, I’d probably be kicked out without charge. Chambers was happy that he’d arrested Samuel Logan and that outweighed his dislike for people he deemed vigilantes.

Witherspoon was totally embarrassed by it all, but what could he do? He knew that his partner was doing things by the book and he could only go along with the decision to take me in. He offered me shakes of his head and a pursed mouth in condolence.

‘Like I told Nicole, Chambers is only doing his job. I don’t hold it against him.’

‘Shit, we wouldn’t have got him if it weren’t for you,’ Witherspoon said.

‘I got you thinking back there, did I?’

‘It’s why I grabbed my partner and followed you here.’ Witherspoon leaned in conspiratorially. ‘Pity I didn’t come alone. I’d’ve waited a few seconds longer before asking you to put down your weapon.’

Chambers had been signing chain of evidence dockets to be attached to evidence bags, but now he was done and turned from the uniformed officer carting away my weapons. Those pointy ears of his weren’t just for show.

‘Then I saved us all a whole bundle of shit,’ he said. ‘You do know I’ve just spared you a murder charge, Hunter?’

‘You’re all heart, Detective.’

He snorted, but then he shook his head. ‘Look. We got off to a bad start yesterday; let me see what I can do about getting you back on the street soon. Of course, to do that you’ll have to fully cooperate.’

‘Hey,’ I said. ‘I’m one of the good guys. What else do you expect?’

I couldn’t exactly feel the love in the air, but Chambers and I had just crossed the boundary. He grinned. It was an odd look on a Vulcan. I smiled back, then my smile froze in place.

Distracted by our peace-making we’d taken our eyes off Samuel for less than a minute, but it had been long enough for everything to go sour.

I caught movement near the cruiser and recognised it as a uniformed cop on his hands and knees. He was spitting and streams of mucus hung from his nostrils. I’d only to turn my head a fraction to see the white-haired businessman shambling towards me. He dragged one leg like the old Universal Studios’ Mummy, one arm extended in front of him. The other hand was a floppy mess knocking against his left thigh, and even in that instant I could see that Samuel had broken his own thumb and torn the skin from the back of his hand in his efforts to free his cuffs.

What a demented bastard.

But he was also relentless. If it wasn’t for the fact he was coming to kill me I could respect his determination.

‘Look out!’

It was Witherspoon who shouted. All around us uniformed cops were seeking refuge behind their cars, while others attempted to steer the hotel guests out of harm’s way. They should have been shooting at the goddamn killer.

Witherspoon dropped to one knee, going for his gun. It was clipped on his trouser belt, and awkward to get at under his jacket. Chambers on the other hand slapped down and came away with his gun all in one movement. He wasn’t fast enough though and Samuel fired first. The bullet knocked Chambers against me. He wheezed, making an agonised sound deep in his chest. Samuel turned the gun on Witherspoon and the older cop rolled aside with all the grace of a hippopotamus. Bullets struck the ground, sending up chips of concrete. Thankfully Witherspoon avoided the rounds but he was on his side, his gun trapped beneath him. He was in no position to return fire.

Samuel kept coming, and I was encumbered by Chambers.

‘Shit.’

‘Care to join me in hell?’ Samuel said.

I’d always expected that I’d go out with a pithy remark, but right then I’d nothing to say. Why waste my final breath on that arsehole?

‘I’d love to do this the old-fashioned way,’ Samuel said, lifting his torn hand, ‘but as you can see I’m not in my best shape at the moment.’

He aimed the pistol at me, even as other cops began shouting at him to lay down his weapon. He was beyond that now: Samuel knew that as soon as he dropped me he’d be fired upon but I could see that he no longer cared. He told me once that he wasn’t afraid to die. He wasn’t. And he was set on taking me with him.

Suddenly there was another figure standing alongside him.

I recognised the grey hooded top at much the same time as Scott Blackstock fired a round into Samuel’s side. The force of the round knocked Samuel sideways and the bullet he fired at me missed and struck the wall of the hotel.

Samuel went down on his injured leg, but he wasn’t dead yet.

Shoot him again, I wanted to yell at Scott, but Scott was too busy screaming.

‘What did you do with my wife? You bastard, tell me!
What did you do with Helena?
’

Blood was pulsing out of the wound in Samuel’s right side, and whatever damage had occurred inside made his right arm weak. But he still retained enough strength to bring his gun round and aim it at Scott. Scott seemed oblivious to the threat and continued to demand answers. I’d tried to keep him out of harm’s way by knocking him out, but I hadn’t hit him hard enough. I owed him my life but it looked like he was going to die and there was nothing I could do to repay him.

‘Here.’

I looked down at Chambers. He was still bent in pain, but he offered me his gun.

‘Take it,’ he said.

‘Willingly,’ I said, and then emptied the entire mag into Samuel Logan’s body.

As the killer collapsed over on his back, Scott threw an incredulous look my way.

‘No! No, I need him to tell me where Helena is.’

Scott leaned in close to Samuel.

With Chambers on one side and Witherspoon offering cover from the other, we advanced on the prone man. I looked down and even after his body had been torn apart by gunfire there was still a spark of lucidity in Samuel’s gaze. He blinked at me.

‘Tell him what happened, Samuel. If there’s any pity left in your heart, tell the man what happened to his wife.’

Samuel began laughing, frothy blood popping on his lips. His voice was paper-thin, but still pitiless.

‘We’ll never know,’ he said.

46

Jay didn’t get to go home the following morning, or the day after that. In fact it was the third day following the horrific incident at the hotel before the investigation was at a point where the witnesses were free to leave. The extra time spent there didn’t jar on her the way it had previously because now she knew there was no Samuel Logan lurking in the wings. As he had passed, so had her fear. In fact it had fled before that, the moment she’d fought the monster to save her father’s life. Jay didn’t feel Nicole’s sense of satisfaction at seeing Samuel gunned down, but had to admit she was glad he was gone. She understood now that part of Nicole’s relief was due to the fact that she hadn’t succumbed to temptation and murdered the man. After they’d wept together and the old Nic was back, the two young women had laughed themselves giddy.

‘Do you still want to live dangerously?’ Nicole had asked.

‘No, thanks, I’ve had quite enough of the wild life.’

‘So we won’t be taking that two-centre holiday we were planning in Iraq and Afghanistan?’

They’d roared with laughter then, tears streaming down their faces and they’d made so much noise rolling about on their beds that her dad had knocked on their hotel-room door to check on them. It was like they were kids again, and it was a wonderful feeling.

The sight of her dad’s face had sobered Jay somewhat. Where Samuel had struck him with the gun his cheek was swollen and a dark bruise the colour of liver had spread all the way down to his jaw. Otherwise he was OK and Jay had hugged him until he was laughing with them. When her mum arrived, along with Nicole’s parents, the other guests in the hotel must have thought they’d booked into a lunatic asylum.

Jay wasn’t laughing now, though. In truth she was hard put to hold back the tears as she went to say goodbye to Joe Hunter. She owed that man more than just her thanks, but she knew that was all he’d take. Maybe in another life things could have worked out differently. No, she then thought. She’d had enough of alternate worlds. Oz – and all other fantasy worlds – were banished from her mind from now on.

Joe had spent more time at the police station than she had. Some of his time there had been as a prisoner, but apparently he’d known better service than many others in his position. He had saved the lives of more than one person, and the two investigators in charge were indebted to him for saving their lives too. Detective Chambers had been spared when his anti-ballistic vest had taken Samuel’s bullet, but without Joe Hunter’s selfless act –
his civic duty
– in taking out the gunman, who knew what might have happened? All charges against him had finally been dropped.

Leaving the police station, he hadn’t returned to the same hotel as the rest of them, but to the less salubrious surroundings of a motel at the western end of town. Her dad had offered to extend his hospitality to five stars but Hunter had graciously refused. He was a private man, she guessed, who needed time to himself, the only way he could heal. She remembered their discussion the night before Samuel’s attack and how she’d thought to change him. There was no changing a man so set in his ways, she understood that now. It would be wrong to try. Hunter had his demons, his ghosts that followed him, but that was what defined him as a person and a good man.

She had walked the length of Central Avenue, past the landmark Wigwam Village, a motel where guests stay in rooms designed to resemble Native American tents. She didn’t give it much of her attention; she was too involved with ordering her thoughts as she made the journey, but now that she approached Hunter’s motel she wasn’t sure what she should say. She paused outside, studying the stucco walls that were grimy with exhaust fumes from the highway, trying to determine which of the rooms belonged to Hunter. The sun was behind her and reflecting from the windows so she’d no hope of seeing him. He could be inside now, watching her approach.

Entering the foyer, she was surprised to find it was neater than she’d expected. The air conditioning was on high and the air pleasantly chilled after her walk in the sun. The walls were whitewashed with garlands of flowers painted at the ceiling line. Soft seating upholstered in Native American blanket designs dominated the alcoves each side of a polished counter that glowed warmly under overhead spotlights. Jay preferred the atmosphere here to that of the stuffy, soulless place where she was staying. The motel was an ideal fit for Joe Hunter, she thought: the rugged exterior belied the caring heart that beat within. It was a better analogy than the wolf she’d thought of when they’d first met.

A young woman popped her head out of an office behind the counter, a beaming smile on her face. She was dark-skinned, and her teeth flashed in greeting, accentuating the highlights in her raven hair.

Jay smiled back but shook her head at the woman’s offer of assistance and pointed a finger towards the room she’d noticed to her left. She should have known where to find Hunter. He had a taste for coffee and she could smell the beans roasting from here. She walked into the small dining area and took the seat opposite him. He was nursing a large cup of coffee so black she thought of the dark side of the moon.

‘How do you ever sleep?’ she asked.

‘Would you like one?’

‘I’m good,’ she said.

‘Are you?’

She missed a beat, but then she nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I think I am.’

He lifted the mug, watching her over the rim as he took a long gulp. His irises reflected the dark liquid and the usual blue flashed chocolate-brown. As he placed the mug down she noted that it took a moment for the colour to recede, but maybe that was just her imagination. She suddenly became conscious that she’d been staring a tad too long and lowered her face in embarrassment. She could feel a flush creeping into her cheeks.