Personal Justice (27 page)

A cruiser breezed past. At the speed she was going on a residential street he undoubtedly would’ve pulled her over under normal circumstances. But today, she was sure the pair of cops inside the vehicle were intent on apprehending a killer, a little too late to do any good.

Main Street wasn’t far ahead. She counted on a modest flow of traffic in this part of town during the day.

Annie was familiar with the streets in the neighborhood, in fact, her knowledge of the city could put any taxi driver to shame. She planned to use that knowledge now.

She touched the brakes lightly, slowed at a stop sign to avoid a pedestrian, and then swung onto Main. She spun the steering wheel to the left, cut to the inside lane, and whipped around a slow moving vehicle. She was making good time and expected to have time to spare—but not much. Every second could count.

Her destination lay just ahead—just a few more moments.

Annie pushed in the clutch, hit the brakes hard, pulled to the curb, and stopped. She turned off the engine, leaving the key ring dangling from the ignition as she jumped out and raced toward the corner of the next street.

She stopped outside the doorway of a flower shop, two feet from the corner of the building. If she had judged this right, her quarry would appear directly in front of her shortly.

She eased to the corner, chanced a quick peek around, and then pulled her head back.

The killer was coming, working her way up the sidewalk toward Main Street. Her pace had slowed, she was tiring, her head drooped from exhaustion, but she would be here in a few seconds. Jake was nowhere in sight. Annie suspected he was behind, staying well out of the woman’s view.

Annie bent her knees slightly, braced her feet, tensed her leg muscles, and waited.

The moment Tammy Norton came into view, Annie leaped forward and broadsided her, bearing her to the sidewalk. Tammy fell hard onto her back, caught by surprise and momentarily stunned, allowing Annie to straddle her.

Annie attempted to hold the killer’s arms down, but Tammy wrenched one free and reached to her back, going for the weapon. Annie grasped the deadly woman by the wrist and the pistol spun across the sidewalk, out of reach.

Tammy lay on her back and clawed like a wildcat, snarling through gritted teeth as she scratched and scraped to break loose from Annie’s grasp. There were no rules as the battle continued. The killer raked at Annie with her nails, and heaved from side to side in a desperate attempt to free herself.

Three or four pedestrians gathered to watch and cheer, not making a move to retrieve the weapon or aid in the struggle.

The killer outweighed Annie by a good twenty pounds, and the element of surprise was gone, but Annie held on. She must persevere until Jake arrived.

Each of the combatants were filled with a determination of their own—the killer to escape, Annie to stop a cold-blooded murderer.

Tammy’s longer arms reached Annie’s throat, and her fingers tightened in a death grip. Annie fought for air, struggling to loosen the clutching hands.

From the corner of her eye, Annie saw Jake, fifty feet away, tearing up the sidewalk. In a few more seconds, it would be all over.

Then with a desperate move, the killer released her grasp on Annie’s throat, heaved and rolled to one side, broke loose, and dived for the weapon. Annie came to a crouch. Tammy spun back, resting on one knee, the pistol in her hand.

The killer gritted her teeth. “Stay there or I’ll kill you now.”

Annie spread her arms in surrender and rose slowly to her feet, taking a step back. Off to her right, Jake came to a quick stop. “Tammy Norton,” he called.

Tammy spun in his direction and came to her feet, the pistol gripped in both hands, her eyes sighting down the barrel. “Stay back,” she screamed. “I’ll shoot both of you and I won’t miss.”

One onlooker fled, the other two backed off, while still others gathered from a safe distance.

Annie’s back was to the street, the possibility of innocent bystanders behind her. She took two steps to the right, a brick wall now at her back, as the killer spun toward her.

“Put the gun down, Tammy,” Jake said.

Tammy glanced frantically in Jake’s direction and kept the weapon trained on Annie.

A moment later, a brown Chevy squealed to a stop on the other side of the narrow street. Hank sprang out and came to a shooting position, his weapon in his hand.

“Police. Drop the gun!”

Tammy whirled to face Hank, her weapon poised, desperation now in her eyes.

Hank sighted carefully. “Drop the gun or I’ll shoot.”

The killer held the weapon firmly in both hands as she circled, training the gun on Annie, then Jake, and finally back to Hank. Her eyes flared red, her face flushed with anger.

Hank took a careful step forward, his eyes on Tammy’s face, his weapon never wavering. “It’s over. Drop it now before somebody gets hurt.”

Tammy stared wild-eyed down the sights toward Hank, her jaw clenched. Then her finger tightened on the trigger and she dropped to a crouch, a shot exploding from her weapon.

Hank dropped at the same moment and fired once.

An onlooker screamed as Tammy’s arms fell to her side and her eyes bulged. The gun slipped from her hand, bounced on the concrete, and remained still. The killer buckled to the sidewalk beside her weapon.

Annie dashed over, kicked the gun aside, and knelt down beside Tammy. She looked into the face of the killer, the woman’s cold, hard eyes now softening, then slowly glazing over, then closing as the last breath escaped from her lungs.

Hank’s shot had found its mark. The hole through the killer’s heart ensured she would kill no more.

Epilogue

Friday, 4:40 p.m.

JAKE SIGNED his name at the bottom of his statement and turned to Annie. She had finished with hers some time ago and now leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed, waiting patiently for Jake.

“Done,” he said, picking up Annie’s statement and scanning it. Annie opened her eyes and sat forward as Jake shuffled the two pages together and handed them to Hank.

The cop looked up from his mound of paperwork, took the statements from Jake, and added them to his stack.

“Paperwork always ensures an exciting case comes to a tedious close,” Hank said. “Sometimes it takes longer to document the case than it took to solve it.”

Jake grinned. “That’s what you get for being a cop. We’re not hampered by such mundane details. A quick police statement, fill out an invoice, and case closed.”

“And you’re not hampered by having to shoot anyone,” Hank added. “That always makes the wrap-up twice as painful.”

“And twice as sad,” Annie said. “It was unfortunate Tammy was too stubborn to surrender, even when she knew she couldn’t win.”

“Suicide by cop,” Hank said. “To some, it’s the easy way out of an impossible situation. Rather than face life in prison, they choose to end it all.”

Hank looked up as King strolled over to the desk carrying Annie’s handbag. “That suits you well,” Hank said with a chuckle. “You should get yourself one.”

King ignored Hank and gave the bag to Annie. He held up a digital recorder and handed a sheet of paper to Hank. “Here’s some more papers for you, Hank. I had Annie’s recording transcribed.”

Hank took the transcription, scanned it, and whistled. “It’s all here,” he said, looking at Annie. “Tammy’s complete confession. That was quick thinking in a desperate situation on your part.”

“How’d you manage that?” Jake asked.

Annie shrugged. “After Geekly called me, I put my cell in my handbag and flicked the recorder on. Tammy took my cell phone, as you know, but missed the recorder, so I pumped her for as much information as I could get. Then I hid it in the trunk of the car for safekeeping, and there you have it.”

“That’ll save me a lot of headaches pinning all this on her,” Hank said. “And it should clear Rocky Shaft of murder charges.”

King laughed. “And to show you that bad guys finish first, the crown isn’t going to charge Shaft for assaulting Lisa Krunk.”

“I suspect that’s because they have a weak case.” Hank chucked. “And the fact Lisa has been none too kind to law enforcement in the past might have something to do with their decision.”

“You’re probably right,” King said. “And Lisa won’t pursue charges because she made a deal with Shaft for his complete story and an interview.”

“So everybody wins,” Jake said.

“Everybody but the dead people,” King said, leaning on the edge of the desk and crossing his arms. “Forensics is still going over the car, but so far, they found blood stains in the trunk, and I’m sure when it’s analyzed, it’ll prove to belong to her husband.”

“I’m not sure if there’s any way to prove it,” Hank said thoughtfully. “But I suspect the bruises on Tammy Norton were not because her husband beat her, but rather from a life and death struggle with him.”

“Did you find out who owns the house where she held Annie?” Jake asked.

Hank shuffled through the papers and withdrew one. “The Nortons were housesitting for a family on a European vacation. She took the liberty of using it as a safe-house, so to speak.”

“And where’s the money?” Jake asked.

Hank shrugged and looked at King. King shrugged back. “It might turn up in the search of Tammy’s house, but who knows? It could be locked away in a safe deposit box somewhere.”

“I bet Rocky Shaft would love to get his hands on it,” Annie said.

“It might never show up,” Hank said. “But if it does, it’ll be confiscated.”

Jake looked around the precinct. “I hope it’s found. You guys could use a few upgrades in here. Half a mill might get you a new desk, Hank.”

The cop laughed. “I’d be happy with a new chair.” He cocked a thumb over his shoulder. “Maybe we could replace that useless air conditioner over there.”

Jake stood. “If we’re done here, I have a very important client I need to see.”

“What is it this time?” Hank asked. “A smuggling ring, or maybe international art thieves?”

“Something more important,” Jake said. “I have to find a lost dog.”

###

Did You Enjoy Personal Justice?

Visit my Web Site
for information on the rest of the series.

Want to know what’s next?
Sign up for my newsletter
to get updates on future releases.

Please consider taking one minute to post a short review on
Amazon
. It would be much appreciated and will help others discover my books.

I’d love to hear from you. Send your criticism, thoughts, and comments to
[email protected]
, or contact me
here
.

Thanks for reading,

Rayven T. Hill

Books by Rayven T. Hill

Blood and Justice

The First Book in the Series

When sixteen-year-old Jenny James goes missing, and the local police are unable to find her, the girl’s frantic mother hires private investigators Jake and Annie Lincoln to search for her daughter.

When the body of Jenny’s boyfriend is discovered, the mystery of her disappearance deepens. Shaken out of their comfort zone of Internet searches and poring over public records, the couple soon find themselves facing the frightening possibility they are looking for the latest victim of a serial killer.

As more bodies pile up, the town is gripped with fear. It seems no one is safe, and the Lincolns race to solve an impossible puzzle before they become the killer’s next victims.

Buy
BLOOD AND JUSTICE
Now

Cold Justice

The Second Book in the Series

Late one night an emotionally disturbed woman, Abigail Macy, witnesses a murder. She reports what she saw to the police, but out of fear that the killer will return to eliminate her as a witness, she keeps quiet about his identity. When the police investigate her claim, they find no evidence of a crime, and influenced by her psychiatrist’s diagnosis that she was delusional, the case is closed.