Ghost Walking (A Maggie York Paranormal Mystery Book 1) (31 page)

By seven o’clock a three-man sniper unit was in place, covering the Mississippi River bank near Jackson Square, and four unmarked cars waited less than a block away. At seven-thirty Maggie and Josh left his apartment building through the backdoor, took his truck, and parked near Cafe du Monde.

Her pulse sped up the instant she stepped out of the cab. The dark, nearly moonless night prevented her from seeing them, but at least three snipers had their sights trained on the area. This could be a critical moment if Coridan was a fourth. A night scope would make this an easy shot. She was counting on him wanting to know how much the PD knew or suspected. But killers were unpredictable.

She watched for a telltale laser beam, but it didn’t always happen that way, except in movies. A fatal shot could come without warning. Her palms grew sweaty. She momentarily flashed back to another dark night…in a courtyard…

Maggie shut down those thoughts, took a deep breath, and walked toward the path along the water. Brandt went with her until they neared the riverbank. He wore a wire in one ear to communicate with the backup teams and already held his Beretta at his side. He stopped, and she walked on alone, emerging onto the open riverwalk.

She turned to the left, following the path, and stopped about twenty-five yards away to wait. Her phone read 7:56. She looked back the direction she’d come, but Josh had faded into the background. The only people in sight were a couple walking a golden retriever. She scanned the area, watching for movement, listening for footsteps. All she heard was the lapping of water against the stones below her path.

She checked her phone screen again. 8:05. He was taking his time.

A flash of light over the water caught her attention. Her shoulders tightened. A reflection from something? A rifle? Then the spot grew and morphed into something vaguely resembling Hurst’s figure. He glided onto the shoreline and moved toward her. His image flared—in, out, in, out—much as he’d done the night of her apartment intruder. Was he warning her Coridan was coming? She turned to take another look.

When the ghostly form rushed toward her, Maggie dodged away, fearing another jolt of that searing cold. Hurst slowed abruptly but swirled around her twice before breaking away and darting toward the city streets. When she continued to stand there, he came back and turned again, his swift movements leaving jagged, scattered wisps. What was he trying to tell her? Something was wrong…and Coridan was late.

Or Coridan had fooled them, and she wasn’t his target.

Oh my God. Josh. Selena had warned her.
Your actions will place another in danger
. She took off running toward his last known position. Hurst’s ghost shot past her. She frantically searched for Josh’s familiar figure among the buildings and trees or for a body on the path.

Then Josh stepped out of the shadows and caught her. “What’s wrong? What happened out there?”

She gripped his arms, mentally regrouping. “It’s Hurst. He’s acting like he’s warning me, and I recalled what Selena said about putting someone else in danger. I thought it was you. But if Coridan didn’t lure me here to kill one of us, then who? Where didn’t he want us to be?”

They looked at one another and said the name together. “Harry.”

As they leaped into Josh’s truck, he touched his earwig and responded to a question from the SWAT team. “Change of plans,” he said into his mic. “We’re headed for the hospital. We think he’s after my brother.”

He gave them the name and location, responded to another inquiry, and finally ripped the earwig off. “They ask too many questions I can’t answer.” He threw the equipment on the backseat. “We just had a fatal malfunction.”

While Josh zigzagged across town, muttering a steady stream of invectives and orders toward other drivers, Maggie clutched the seat. She kept a close eye on Hurst’s shadowy form to confirm they were on the right track, but he continued to streak toward the hospital. Coridan must have figured it out, heard about the snipers, or the backup team. But why go after Harry? Anger, revenge against her or Josh? Did he need the hit money to get out of town? Hell, it didn’t matter. She’d find out when they caught him.

When the hospital came into view, the truck screeched to a halt. Josh leaped out and ran for the front door. Hurst’s ball of light dropped in front of Maggie, flashing a brilliant white, and flowed toward the corner of the building.

“I’m following Hurst,” she yelled just before Josh disappeared inside.

With her SIG already in her hand, she followed the white light, found a back door open, and slipped inside. She was in a silent, empty stairwell. Shifting her gun into a two-handed firing position, she started up the stairs toward Carolyn Brandt’s room on the third floor, stepping quietly and staying close to the wall. She watched and listened for movement but reached the midpoint to the second level without incident.

A muffled volley of gunshots came from somewhere above her. Oh, God. Were they too late? She sprang up the stairs.

A door banged open. Footsteps clattered. She and Coridan spotted each other at the same moment. Maggie fired and flattened against the wall. A bullet whizzed past her. Coridan’s heavy footsteps swiftly retreated upward.

A mixture of rage and fear for Harry drove her up the stairs two at a time. Two leaps from the third floor, she halted as Josh burst into the stairwell.

“He’s up there.” She jerked her head toward the upper floors.

She took a second glance at Josh, attempting to read what had happened to Harry, but his eyes were hooded, intent on the hunt. Unreadable. She’d leave it for later.

Coridan’s footsteps abruptly stopped. A deadly silence hung over the stairwell. Either Coridan was waiting—listening as intently as they were—or he had slipped onto one of the upper levels. There were twelve in all with an extra cutback landing between each floor. Nine floors to go. Slow going to clear each one.

Josh motioned for her to take the other side of the stairs, and they started up, pausing at each landing to check if the next flight was clear. Level four brought a welcome surprise. The stairwell doors locked automatically. Coridan couldn’t get back inside. Which meant he was headed for the roof. Or couched on one of the landings.

They moved as quickly as they dared. Shots were fired just short of level seven, chipping the wall a few inches from Maggie’s head. She and Josh both returned fire, and then the stairwell grew quiet again. Maggie thought she heard quiet movement, but the metal and concrete stairwell didn’t produce squeaks like wood structures might. After a moment, they moved upward again.

Just short of level ten, Maggie spotted Coridan again. She fired at his disappearing figure but was forced to retreat to the last landing when he peppered them with return fire. The repeated gunfire raised a deafening echo in the stairwell. Where the hell was their backup?

Coridan finally broke the standoff—probably to reload—and his steps pounded rapidly upward. He was making a run for the roof, and Josh raced after him. Maggie paused just long enough to slip in a new magazine. She’d brought two spares for her SIG and had already used one. Coridan probably had about the same. He wouldn’t have come prepared for extended resistance.

This couldn’t go on indefinitely. And unless he had a helicopter waiting or planned to jump off the building, Coridan was headed nowhere.

By the time she and Josh neared the top, she finally heard a loud noise from below. The SWAT team was on the way up. Maggie leaped up the last few steps. She had a much different ending in mind than a bloody takedown.

Josh pointed to the steps on the last flight. Splatters of blood. One of them had winged Coridan in the last exchange. When Josh opened the door to the roof, he jumped backward as Coridan sprayed the entrance with bullets. Maggie eased forward and cracked it open again, staying well off to the side.

“Coridan, you’re stuck up here. And SWAT is climbing the stairs right behind me. This isn’t going to end well for you, unless we come up with an alternative.” When he didn’t respond, she tried again. “Ray, are you listening?”

“You got a suggestion, York?”

“There are people we want more than you. Might be some room for accommodation.”

“You kidding me?” His laugh was harsh. “Come on, Maggie, get real. There’s no deals for a dirty cop. You willing to overlook my transgressions and let me go? Anything else is a death sentence for a cop in prison.”

Maggie’s temper flared. “On a cold day in hell. Whether it’s old age or lethal injection, you’re going to die in prison.” Josh touched her shoulder, and she caught herself. “But I want Castile. Enough to argue for some concessions. A protected wing in a federal prison would be a good deal for you.”

Josh moved to the head of the stairs to talk with the arriving SWAT team. It sounded like they were arguing, and she heard the commander say, “That’s a dirty cop out there. Maybe a cop killer.”

“Think about it, Coridan, while I try to keep SWAT from filling you full of holes.” Maggie turned and smiled grimly at the SWAT leader. “Doesn’t hurt to remind him what you guys can do.”

“What’s the situation?” the commander asked curtly.

“He’s alone. I suspect he’s running out of ammo. He’s a cold-blooded killer, but he’s also practical, and he’s talking. I think he’ll take a deal, and he’s holding a lot of information on Bullet Castile that we desperately need.”

“You sure you’re not being easy on a former partner?”

Maggie clenched her jaw. She wanted to punch his face, but it was a fair question. She bit off her words. “I’d be tempted to shoot him myself, if we didn’t need him to bring down an even bigger fish.”

The commander crossed his arms. “We’ll wait, but I’m sending snipers into the surrounding buildings. We’ll be ready to end this if anything changes or whenever you’ve had enough.”

She nodded and returned to the door. “Hey, Coridan, don’t you bleed out on me. You made up your mind yet? SWAT wants to shoot you.”

“Nothing but a scratch, Maggie. But I’m touched by your concern. What kind of guarantees do I get?”

“Not a one. Except my promise I’ll try to deliver if you help us nail Castile.” She didn’t expect him to go for vague promises, but she had to open negotiations with plenty of room to spare.

While Coridan haggled over details—Geez, you would have thought he was a lawyer—and Maggie relayed demands back and forth on the phone between the DA’s office and her former partner on the roof, she spotted a ball of swirling shadows hovering near the hospital’s rooftop helipad. What was Hurst waiting for? Did he need to see the capture or hear a confession?

“Hey, Coridan, as an act of good faith, showing your willingness to cooperate, tell me why you shot Hurst and his girl.”

“Oh, no, Maggie. I can’t admit to anything, not until the DA’s signature is on the line. But I’ll say this—I never did anything I wasn’t paid for. If I had to guess what happened that night, I’d say Hurst knew more than he should, and the girl was just there.”

“Geez, Coridan. That’s cold.” Not a very satisfying answer, but hopefully Hurst had heard what he needed to hear.

It took another half hour of negotiating, and two more calls to the District Attorney’s Office, but Coridan finally kicked both his guns across to her and lay spread-eagled on the concrete surface. SWAT swarmed onto the roof and secured him. One pistol was empty, the other held one last bullet. Coincidence or insurance?

As SWAT headed down the stairs with Coridan in custody, Maggie finally asked Josh about Harry.

His grim expression widened into a grin. “He’s fine. All the gunfire you heard came from him. As I ran past the front desk, I had them buzz him. He woke, saw Coridan slip through a connecting door, and didn’t hesitate.” Josh shook his head. “Of course, every shot missed by a mile, and we were lucky no one else was injured, but in the poor lighting Coridan must have thought he’d walked into a trap. I’d like to stop and reassure Mom and Harry before we head to the station. SWAT will walk Coridan through booking for us.”

“I’ll join you in a minute. I have something else I need to do.” She gestured vaguely toward the roof exit. Josh lifted a brow as she moved toward the door. “Someone’s still hanging around that I need to, um, thank or maybe, say good-bye.”

Josh hesitated, then nodded. “Extend my thanks too.” He descended the stairs.

Maggie stepped outside. As she’d expected, the ghostly form hovered on the roof, floating, no longer distinct.

She scuffled a foot on the rough surface. “I guess this is it, Bobby. With your help, Josh’s brother is safe and your killer’s in custody. I guess you heard his excuse for killing you. Sorry, it was so lame.” She paused, searching for the right words. “I can’t say I’m thrilled with this new ability, but if I have to deal with ghosts, I’m glad you were the fist.” Aw, hell, this was awkward. “Thanks. You taught me a lot. And you really aren’t a bad guy.”

The ghostly light brightened for a moment, then faded to nothing. Maggie left without looking back.

* * *

Over an hour later, Captain Jenson, Josh, and Maggie stood in the observation room of District 13 and watched Coridan sitting in Interrogation on the other side of the one-way mirror. He was in handcuffs, an officer stood next to the door, but he seemed perfectly at ease. His left arm was bandaged where he’d caught a bullet just above the elbow. He’d lost blood but not enough to require hospitalization. He’d probably live a long life inside some federal penitentiary.

Maggie felt a twinge of regret. Not for Coridan or what had happened to him…but for the better man she had thought he was.

“Cool SOB, isn’t he?” Jenson growled.

“Well, is somebody going in there and wrap this up?” Maggie asked.

“Sorry, but it can’t be you.” The captain eyed her as if she might protest. “You’re not on active status. We have to do this one by the book. Detective Brandt, it’s your show.”

Maggie shrugged as Josh left the room. Interrogating Coridan would have been a pleasure, but she’d prepared herself for Jenson’s decision. Coridan’s testimony was too important. The captain couldn’t risk opening loopholes that would allow the courts to find his confessions inadmissible. The sound of a door opening over the sound system brought her attention back to the mirror.