Yuletide Defender (12 page)

With that, he jumped into his car and roared out of the driveway. Rachel watched as he turned the corner before she headed back inside. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes and she wiped at them.

For a few minutes this afternoon she'd felt happier than she had in years. It seemed so natural for Matt to be there with her family, but then she'd realized she was only dreaming. There was no room for a man in her life. Not even one as wonderful as Matt Franklin.

R
achel hummed the melody of the “Nutcracker March” as she glided down the third-floor hallway of the
Daily Beacon.
The bustle of activity in the building always excited her, but this morning it seemed more invigorating than ever. She could hardly wait to get to her office and see if her story in the morning paper had prompted any emails.

Rachel hurried into her office and sank down in the chair at her desk. She had just booted up her computer when a knock at the door caused her to turn.

“Morning, Rachel. Hope I'm not interrupting anything.” Her editor, Cal Belmont, stepped into the office.

Rachel stood. “I was just getting ready to check my emails. I thought this morning's story might have attracted some responses.”

Cal chuckled. “Did it ever. My email box has been flooded with messages. Seems like your story has stirred a lot of interest in our readers. That's what I like to see.”

Excitement washed over her. “Really? Like what?”

He motioned to her computer. “Pull yours up and see for yourself.”

Rachel sat down and opened her first email. She read it and then clicked on the next. The excitement she'd felt a moment ago burst, replaced by astonishment. Unable to believe what she was seeing, Rachel opened several more. Her chest hurt
like a heavy weight sat on it. “I don't believe this. These letters support the vigilante.”

A smirk pulled at Cal's mouth. “Yeah. It seems like a lot of folks think the end justifies the means. Get rid of the gang members whatever the cost. So what if a murderer is loose? He's killing the right people.”

Rachel glanced at the last message she'd read. “Listen to what one guy said. ‘I say hooray for an individual who's willing to stand up and take our streets back. I know a lot of guys who would be willing to help if you need us.'”

“Yeah, I was copied on that one.”

“And this one,” Rachel said, “‘Keep up the good work, man. You're a hero to me.'” She leaned back in her chair and stared at Cal. “I can't believe anybody would write something like this.”

Cal waved his hand in dismissal and laughed. “Don't worry about it, Rachel. Some people just like to blow off steam. Doesn't amount to anything.”

“But, Cal, my story didn't condone murder. Many of these letters do. I wanted to let the vigilante know he's no better than the gang members.” She pointed back to the computer screen. “These emails make it sound like he's some kind of hero.”

“As long as we can sell newspapers, I could care less about the personal convictions of our readers. You keep the stories coming and let's try to capitalize on the emotion you've stirred up.”

Rachel cocked an eyebrow. “I only reported what happened and what an apparent gang insider told me. We don't want this vigilante to become a hero.”

Cal laughed. “Why should we care how people see him? We have a chance here to promote a lot of interest in our newspaper and I want to take advantage of it.”

Rachel couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Cal, we need to be careful with this. We don't want to feel responsible
if copycat killers take to the street. A lot of innocent people could get hurt if vigilante law becomes prevalent.”

Cal's gray eyes narrowed and he pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up on his nose. “That sounds strange coming from you. I know what you're up to, Rachel. You're using your job here as a springboard to something bigger and better. You've been biding your time until the right story came along. Well, you've got one now, and I expect it to be covered the way I want it.”

In the time she'd worked for Cal, Rachel had never experienced such a demanding tone in his voice. “I understand, but I haven't heard anything from my source in several days and I don't have any other leads right now. I'll let you know if things change.”

Cal nodded and directed a stern glare in her direction. “Good. Just remember, if you expect a good recommendation from me when you leave here, you'd better do what I ask.”

He sauntered from her office, leaving Rachel's mind whirling. Cal was right about her wanting a big story, but now that she had it she didn't know if the dangers were worth it. With her life threatened and her apartment invaded, she felt more vulnerable than she ever had. She buried her face in her hands.

A discreet cough at the door caught her attention. She tried to ignore the happiness that washed over her at the sight of Matt but it was no use. He looked so handsome this morning. She'd heard the expression “dressed to kill” many times and had never understood it. Until now. Every time she saw Matt her heart kicked into overdrive and a little more of her resolve to keep her distance from him died.

She rose and waved him into the office. “What are you doing here this morning?”

He grinned. “Checking on my favorite newspaper reporter. I wanted to see if you made it to work okay.”

“Yes, Cara woke me up early and I beat the morning rush
hour.” She glanced at her computer and frowned. “But I can't say I was happy at what greeted me.”

“What?”

She read a few of the emails to him and related her conversation with Cal. When she'd finished, Matt rubbed the back of his neck. “Whatever happened to ‘Thou shalt not kill'? Have we gotten so jaded that we think murder is okay if it serves the public need?”

Rachel nodded. “I know. But Cal wants me to play this angle up. It was almost like he wanted me to make the readers even more vocal.”

Matt sighed. “Well, I suppose you have to do what your editor wants if you want to keep your job. But don't forget about the threat you had last night.”

Fear knotted Rachel's stomach, but she managed a weak smile. “I won't. I'm not going to do anything foolish.”

“Good, but I still think Philip and I need to keep an extra watch on you.”

“That sounds good, but you have other things to take care of. I'll be fine.”

His forehead wrinkled and he exhaled. After a moment he grinned. “I couldn't face Cara if anything happened to you. So call me if you see anything suspicious.”

“I will. Thanks for everything, Matt.” She walked around her desk and faced him. “And thank Philip for wanting to help. Is he at work or still under the weather?”

“He called in sick this morning, but I talked to him about the incident at Pepper's Bar.”

“Was he angry that we didn't tell him?”

Matt shook his head. “He didn't sound like he was. He said that he liked you and would do anything to help when he came back to work.”

Relief flowed through Rachel. “Good. I didn't want to be the cause of any problems between you and your partner.”

“You weren't.” He glanced at his watch and backed toward
the door. “I need to get back to the station. I'll call you later. Maybe we can—”

Rachel's eyes grew wide. “Matt, watch out,” she yelled.

Her warning came too late. Toby Jones, the
Beacon
's custodian, walked through the door and collided with Matt. Toby fell against the door frame and struggled to regain his balance. Whirling, Matt grabbed the elderly custodian and steadied him. “I'm sorry. I didn't see you.”

Rachel rushed over and stopped beside Toby. “Are you all right?”

He nodded. “I'm fine, Miss Long. I shoulda said something instead of just barrelin' into your office. It was my fault.”

Matt released Toby's arm. “That was quite a jolt. Why don't you sit down?”

Toby shook his head and backed away. “No need for that. I was passing by and thought I'd let Miss Long know I read her story. I didn't mean to cause no commotion.”

Rachel smiled. “You know you can come in here any time. But about my story, what did you think?”

“I thought it was mighty good. Never thought about there being a vigilante, but it makes sense.”

Rachel pointed to Matt. “This man who just ran over you is Detective Matt Franklin. With any luck he'll soon catch him.” Matt nodded his agreement.

Toby looked at them as if they'd lost their minds. “Catch him? I hope you don't before he finishes what he's set out to do.”

Rachel stared in disbelief. Another person who thought of the vigilante as some sort of hero? “Toby, you can't mean that.”

The man's gray hair bobbed up and down as he nodded. “I sure do. The gangs are a scourge. If you don't think so, come spend one night in my neighborhood. Lock your doors at sundown, pull your shades and stay away from windows 'til morning. Then you'll understand.”

“But murder—”

Toby's face mottled with red splotches. “Don't tell me 'bout murder. I see it all the time. I'm glad somebody's finally decided to do something about it. I wish I could shake the guy's hand and tell him thanks.”

Rachel couldn't believe the hatred spewing from Toby's mouth. Beside her, Matt appeared to be at a loss for words also. Toby turned and walked from the office, leaving the two of them to stare after him.

“Oh, Matt,” Rachel breathed. “This story has touched some deep feelings in the people of Lake City.”

“Yeah. And we're both caught in the middle.”

“What do we do now?”

“I don't know.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe we'll get a break soon. This guy can't hide from the police forever.”

Her phone rang and Rachel reached for it as Matt backed toward the door. She waved and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Too bad about Big T. I liked him a lot.”

Rachel's eyes grew wide at the voice she knew she'd recognize anywhere. Gesturing wildly for Matt to stay, Rachel took a deep breath. “I didn't know him, but it was still horrible seeing him die that way.”

Matt grabbed a notepad off her desk, scribbled something, and held it up for her to see.
Is that your source?

Rachel nodded, and he leaned over her desk as if trying to catch part of the conversation. She put her finger to her lips for Matt to be quiet and not alert the caller that she wasn't alone.

“The brothers are really mad now. They say somebody got to pay.”

Rachel slipped the pad toward her and began to make notes about what the source was saying. Matt's forehead wrinkled as he tried to read the words.

“Can't you do something to make them understand it was a setup?”

“Naw, I think they already know it was me done talked. I gotta get out of town.”

Rachel sat up straight. “Where are you going?”

“I dunno. That was 'posed to be up to you. You done told me you'd help me get away. So it's time for you to deliver.”

Rachel chewed on her lip a moment. “I can help you. I know where you can stay until we find a safe place out of town, but you've got to do something else first.”

“What's that?”

“You have to meet with me. If I'm going to help you, I have to know who you are. I can't give out information about a safe house until I'm sure about you.”

A sigh rippled in her ear. “Yeah. I guess it's time we met. How about the same place tonight?”

“That will be fine. But there is a condition to this.” She hesitated a moment. “I'm going to bring Detective Matt Franklin from the police with me.”

“What?” His yell hurt her ear and she pulled the phone away. “I ain't talkin' to no popo. I done told you they's taking payoffs.”

“Detective Franklin's not. He's an honest cop, and he wants to catch this vigilante as much as we do. So you have a decision to make. Either you meet with both of us or you can find your own way out of the gang.”

Rachel expected the call to disconnect but it didn't. After a moment, he spoke. “All right. I guess I ain't got no choice now. If I don't go, I gonna be killed for talking to a reporter. So I might as well talk to a cop, too.”

She relaxed and flashed a victory sign at Matt. “Then we'll be waiting on the park bench tonight at midnight.” The phone clicked and Rachel put the receiver back on the base. She stood up and glanced at Matt. “Want to go to meet my source tonight?”

His eyes sparkled with excitement. “That was a gutsy move, Rachel. I thought he'd hang up, but you had him hooked.” His gaze drifted over her. “You're really something. You know that?”

Her face warmed. “Thank you, Matt. If we're going to catch this killer, it's going to take some aggressiveness. I thought it was time I let the source know he couldn't stay in control. Not if he's serious about getting out of the gang life. I'll call David and ask him to get a room ready at the Youth Center where he can stay until we can get him out of town.”

“I have to stop by the Center on my way back to the station. I can check that out with him if you'd like.”

“That would probably be better. You know he's my godfather, and he's very protective. If he knows you're going with me to the meeting, he may not be so upset.”

“I'll try to put his mind at ease. I'll see you later.” He headed to the door but stopped before he exited. “How about dinner tonight?”

She smiled. “That sounds great.”

“Then I'll talk to you later.”

Rachel nodded and sank into her desk chair. The notes she'd made while on the phone lay in front of her and she reviewed what had been said. From the beginning she'd wondered about the man with the soft voice who whispered in her ear about corruption in the police department and a killer who stalked the streets. After years in a gang, she wondered if it was possible for a person to give up the lifestyle. If things worked out tonight, she might soon have the answer to that question.

 

Matt stopped outside David Foreman's office at the Youth Center and knocked. When no one answered, he knocked again. He was just about to leave when David's voice rang out from down the hall.

“Matt, what are you doing here at this time of day? Aren't
you supposed to be at work? Earning the taxpayers' money, so to speak?”