Shadow of Death (32 page)

“Okay,” Troy responded before Chyanne ordered him to hang up and take her to get her money now that he knew the “missus” was safe. He did so with a smile in his heart having fully understood Lloyd's cryptic message. Troy didn't know why, but he knew exactly where the obsessed movie buff had directed him. Off to the vacant house on Dundee he went. Troy contemplated on whether or not to tell Chyanne that her boyfriend had been apprehended. Ultimately, he did after secreting making sure the phone call hadn't interrupted the recording. He thought it might spark some remorse. He was wrong. Chyanne's response was “so what?” She'd planned on killing him anyhow.

I
t was a few minutes before five when they pulled up at the small blue house that sat empty on Dundee Avenue, off of Hamilton Road on the city's east side. Troy drove the car all the way to the detached garage and turned it off.

“Whose house is this?” grilled Chyanne.

“A friend of mine owns it. He lives out of town and I check on the place for him from time-to-time to make sure it's not being vandalized,” Troy repeated what Lloyd had told him verbatim. “It's vacant. This is where I hid the money.”

“You better not be playing games with me, Troy. Don't think your wife or children are completely out of my reach. No one, not even Lloyd, can watch them twenty-four-seven. I got to Natalie once. I'm sure I can do it again.”

“Shut up!” Troy didn't try to mask his irritation. There was a good chance he was about to die and he was determined to do it fearless. As Lloyd had said, the backdoor was open. Troy went in, looking around the cracked wooden floor, wondering what the next step was in his friend's grand plan.

“Where's the money!” Chyanne demanded, waving the gun at him. If she was a few feet closer, he could maneuver it away from her.

“I'm about to show you. If you will indulge me for a moment, please, I have one question for you first. How long have you been planning this?”

“For about a year or more. It was after Cheryl lost her job. I was at her house helping her go through some paperwork and I found the insurance policy listing me as the sole beneficiary. Imagine my surprise at the policy itself,
and
that Cheryl had kept it a secret from me. I was sure she told me everything, but I see she was better at keeping things than I thought. I didn't know she'd cashed it out until after we killed her. I would have preferred a million dollars, but five hundred thousand is still a nice chunk of change.”

“Your sister loved you. Why would you manipulate her to the point of destroying her entire life?” As Chyanne talked, he inched closer, hoping to be able to take the weapon.

“By the time we met, I was beyond developing relationships. I learned I was adopted when I was fifteen. I overheard my parents, if that's what we want to call them, talking about how they regretted the day they brought me home. I admit, I was a hellion. I used to do things like pee in the lemonade and put itching powder in their shoes,” Chyanne chortled. “I
loved
to see their reactions. They were fed up with me, though. They'd refused to give me my allowance one week, so when they were gone, I took all of their jewelry and sold it at a pawn shop where the owner was known for not asking questions. I got over three thousand dollars and spent every last dime at the mall. Don't look at me like that.” Troy's disdain must've been apparent. “It was their fault. They raised me to think I could have and do whatever I wanted, but when I became a teenager, they all of a sudden wanted to have rules because they thought I was too spoiled and out of control. What-
ever!
Anyhow, when I heard them discussing the possibilities of what to do with me, I decided to take matters into my own hands. That night, I waited until they were sleeping and set the house on fire. Poor mom and dad didn't make it because
someone
had taken the batteries out of the smoke alarm.” She gave an exaggerated sigh.

“I was an orphan for the second time around and went from foster home to foster home, learning how to hustle. When I became an adult, I went to college. At first I was going for computer forensics, but it was boring. I'd already learned everything they were teaching me and then some on my own. I tried acting for a little while because I thought it would be fun. I would've gotten my degree except the classes were too expensive and I ultimately had to drop out. That's when I made it my mission to find out about my birth family. I learned their tragic story and that I had a sister and I searched for Cheryl until I found her. I didn't expect to have a relationship with her; I was curious like anyone would be, and I was hoping to hit her up for a few dollars. I was broke and didn't have a place to stay and figured I could use the “we-are-blood” card for sympathy. I finally found Cheryl about ten years ago and she was
so
pathetic. All she did was cry and say how much she loved me and she'd never gone a day without thinking about me. I was looking at her like, ‘Seriously, you don't even know me!” But, I could tell right away that she was like my adoptive parents, so eager to please that she didn't use common sense. When she heard my sad story, about how my other parents died and how I lived a rough life since the age of fifteen, I had her hooked and she'd been wrapped around my finger ever since.”

Troy was dumbfounded. Chyanne was a bona fide psychopath!

“Okay, enough about me. Now give me my money,” she demanded, turning on her “Shay” voice. “ 'Cuz Imma 'bout to blow yo' brains out if you keep messin' around.”

Troy felt confident enough that he could get the pistol away from her, and as he was about to make his move, a male voice came from the side. “Put the gun down!” Chyanne turned to face Don Nugent and obediently laid her gun on the floor. “Move out the way, Troy!” he ordered.

“Well, well…look at the roly-poly my sister rejected in high school coming to save the day. Too bad your efforts are in vain.” Chyanne reached from behind her back and grabbed the gun she'd confiscated from Troy, but she wasn't quick enough. Before she could pull the trigger, Nugent shot her straight through the heart.

Troy's head was reeling from all the commotion as he watched Chyanne's body go limp and crash to the floor.

“Lloyd called me earlier,” Nugent explained. “He told me how they had your wife and that you were going to exchange her freedom for the money. He was planning to send you here and wanted me around to have your back. He thought I'd jump at the opportunity to redeem myself since I've been embarrassed by getting removed from the case.”

Troy let out a big exhale. “Thanks, man!” He'd had a suspicion that Lloyd had been keeping something from him. This was it. “Oh, and about you and Cheryl, I wasn't the one who contacted the chief. I promise.”

Nugent shrugged. “It doesn't matter. A half million dollars is worth a little shame, don't you think?”

“Huh?”

Nugent now pointed a gun Troy's way. “Where's the money?”

“You can't be serious. If Lloyd told you the plan, then he obviously told you that I don't have the money. I was bluffing.”

“Bull. Lloyd said no such thing. You two are planning to split the money, but neither of you deserve to cash in on Cheryl's death. You played her like a rag doll and he left her. I'm the only one who's ever truly loved Cheryl and I should get that money. Once you show me where it is, my story will be that I got here too late. Chyanne killed you and I killed her in retaliation. I'll be long gone by the time forensics sorts things out and the cops learn about the money. As you can see, our friend Lloyd likes to keep a low profile, so I don't expect him to come forth with details anytime soon.”

Troy had had enough! Nugent was standing much closer to him than Cheryl had been and without giving it a second thought, Troy did a maneuver that knocked the gun out of Don's hand to the floor and the two of them wrestled until Troy eventually got the detective pinned to the ground. Hoping the sirens he heard were coming their direction, Troy maintained his position until the cops burst in with their weapons drawn and ordered Troy up.

“Thank goodness y'all are here!” Nugent exclaimed. “That is Troy Evans, the fugitive wanted in connection with the murder of Cheryl Hunter, the former FBI agent. He killed this young lady here and was trying to kill me, too.”

Troy saw the cell phone Lloyd had given him lying on the floor. It must have fallen during their struggle. “Our whole conversation has been recorded. Check it out; you'll see which one of us tried to kill the other.”

One of the officers picked up the phone while another ordered both him and Nugent to turn around and get handcuffed. “We'll sort this out at the station,” he barked.

Troy obliged the request without complaint, knowing he'd eventually be a free man.

Sometime in the future…

A
s Troy sat in the basement going over case files, he smiled at the sound of his children's feet running across the floor and his wife yelling at them to “stop!” It was a scenario that repeated itself every so often, and it was usually Nate who set off the chain of events during his horseplay with the younger ones. Troy stopped for a moment to look at the recent photo on his desk of him, Natalie, their children, and Corrine. Taking professional family pictures wasn't really his thing. He did it more to appease Natalie, but this particular photo gave him so much pride for reasons he couldn't explain. There was nothing overly special about the photograph except that their outfits were all coordinated. Again, Natalie's doing! Perhaps it meant a lot to him because of the genuine smiles on their faces. It could have possibly been the memories of eating ice cream at the park immediately after the photo session. Maybe it was simply that the picture served as a reminder of how blessed He was. His marriage, his family, and his finances all remained intact and had survived the craziness brought on by Cheryl and friends. Whatever the reason, Troy took great pride in the portrait and it was the first thing he saw every time he sat at his desk to work.

That day on Dundee sparked a change in him. As he rode in the back of a patrol car to the station, Troy thought about his family and their future. While waiting for hours for the cops to sort out the details and sitting quietly through the chastisement from Mr. Murphy about how he handled things, followed by a wink from Larry on the side, Troy came to a decision; one that would forever alter the course of his life.

His decision was confirmed the first time he saw his family after being released from the station. Between Nate's
“Da-dee!”
squeal, Ebony's and Ean's bouncing and babbling, and Natalie's tears of joy, Troy felt every bit of the superstar treatment that Natalie often teased him about whenever he came home after being gone any length of time. Everyone was amped up on adrenaline and it took forever for him and Natalie to get the kids to bed that night. When they did, Troy gobbled her up with hugs and kisses. They made love until they were both expended and had nothing left to give. That weekend, they celebrated their anniversary. As they lay in bed at the Hilton, Troy finally shared his thoughts with Natalie, seeking her input.

“I think it's a great idea,” she'd said. With his wife fully on board, once Troy's suspension was lifted, he retired early from the CPD after twenty years and went to work for himself as a private investigator. Troy called upon B.K. Ashburn, a well-known and respected veteran investigator with whom he'd worked on a special case in Houston. B.K. provided suggestions that helped Troy start his own company. By the fall of that year, Evans Investigations was up and running!

News coverage about his case with Cheryl worked in Troy's favor. People seemed intrigued by the “cop gone rogue” in order to clear his name. When the locals reported that he'd started his company, the phone started ringing. Maintaining good relationships with officers on the force helped Troy when it came to being privy to some information that the average investigator might not have access to. Overall, his company was doing quite well. During the early days, Troy accepted all kinds of cases—missing pets, runaway teens, cheating spouses—but nowadays he could afford to be more selective thanks to a plug about him in a book about investigative techniques B.K. had written.

The honor of Troy having his name connected with B.K.'s wasn't enough to stop the inconsistent cash flow of being self-employed. Some months were more plentiful than others. Luckily, during those lean times, the Evanses had a nice reserve to fall back on because of Lloyd's sharing spirit. Somehow Lloyd found the money Cheryl hid from her life insurance policy and several months after Troy started his company, he received a pretty healthy stack of cash via UPS with a note inside that read,
“I'm applying a lesson taken from Season 1, Episode 9 of Barney & Friends, ‘Caring Means Sharing.'
 ”