Justification for Murder (31 page)

T
yler grabbed the duct tape from the floor and told the Indian woman to sit in the empty chair. He secured her while she cried silently. When he was done, he walked toward the woman who wouldn’t shut up and pulled on the duct tape to cover her mouth. “Shit,” he said when the silver tape ended and the brown cardboard base appeared. A couple inches of tape wouldn’t do the job. He looked around for more adhesive, but there was none. Everybody was quiet, almost stoic, so he moved on.

“Where do you want these?” Julia said when she came downstairs.

He let go of the empty roll of tape and said, “Just set them by the stairs.”

She placed the gasoline cans on the concrete floor and went back upstairs.

He stood in the middle of the room and looked around as if he couldn’t remember what he’d been doing before the interruption. He surveyed the basement but specifically avoided looking at the women tied up. His gaze stopped on the older man he’d brought down earlier. He still rested on the floor, facedown. Tyler stared down at him. Then he followed the trace of blood toward Keith. After a few seconds, he closed the distance between them and kneeled down to pat him, soaking his hands in Keith’s blood. He searched between the man and the wall and below him, just in case, but didn’t find what he was looking for. He gave up and stood, wiping his hands on his pants again, and turned to Saffron.

“Where is it?” he asked.

Saffron didn’t answer. Just looked back at him.

“Tell me where the knife is.”

She still didn’t say anything.

“What were you doing by the body when I came down?” he asked her, his voice rising.

“I wanted to see if he was still alive.” She kept her eyes on him. “I wanted to help him.”

“You’re lying,” he yelled and walked to her. Before he realized what he was doing, he felt his hand slap her face with such force that her lip broke and new blood tainted his hand. “Where do you have it? Tell me.”

He made a fist with his hand, ready to use it. He stood there, looking down at her, waiting for her response.

“I don’t have the knife,” she said again, sucking the blood on her cracked lip.

D
arcy turned the corner and stopped to listen for noises coming from the house. He heard steps fading. He looked through another window, but it only gave him a view of the second bedroom. He walked by the door and peeked into the living room window again. The house was empty.

He retraced his steps and checked the door. It was unlocked. He turned the knob slowly, trying to anticipate any screeching noises that would give him away. He finally heard the bolt give in, and he pulled the door toward him one inch at a time.

He only opened it wide enough for his body to go through. With his back to the wall, he slid in and heard steps coming from the basement. He looked around quickly, but there wasn’t a good place to hide before the woman reappeared. He opened the entry closet and jumped inside. He heard her reach the landing and stop. He wondered if she was staring at the open closet door, if she knew something didn’t add up or was different than before. But then he heard steps going toward the kitchen, moving away from him. The faucet turn on, and water started running in the sink.

Hoping that the noise would mask his presence, Darcy stepped out of the closet and walked toward the middle of the room. Both of his hands cupped his Glock, which was pointing at the woman’s back. He crept slowly, measuring each step. But then the old wood creaked under his weight, loud enough to prick the woman’s ears.

She turned around. Her hands were wet. Darcy kept pointing the gun at her with one hand while he brought his index finger to his lips, indicating for her to be quiet. He walked toward her while she wrung her hands to make them dry. When he reached the entrance for the basement, he looked down, but there was nothing to see except three red cans of gas forming a perfect line by the last step.

“Are you alone?” he whispered.

The woman just stood, not saying a word, not giving up anything with her eyes or facial expression. Darcy asked again. She nodded slightly. He didn’t believe her.

He looked down in the basement again, searching for anything that would give him any indication of whether they were alone. From the corner of his eye, he saw her moving her hands. He looked back at her and said, “Hands where I can see them.” Out of reflex he spoke louder than he’d wanted to.
No more stealth presence
, he thought.

He moved away from the basement door toward the bedrooms so he could keep both the woman and the basement entrance in his line of sight at the same time.
I wish I had two eyes,
he cursed to himself.

Before he had a chance to get a full view, a man with a gun appeared from the stairs and said, “Drop the gun.”

“I’m a deputy sheriff. You need to drop your weapon right now,” Lynch said, switching the aim of his gun from the woman to the man. He recognized him, it was the Curarent Tech CEO.

Tyler Warren stopped and took a few steps down slowly, with his gun still pointing at him. When Darcy looked back at the woman he saw she had managed to pull a gun of her own, and now they had the advantage.

“Don’t be stupid, both of you. I’m a cop. I can take you both down before you have time to cock the gun. Just put the weapons down,” he said, trying to sound a lot more confident than he felt.

“Darcy?” he heard somebody call from downstairs.

“Saffron?” he asked after a second, trying to make sense of the voice.

“Oh my God,” she replied.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, still keeping his eye on both barrels.

“Yes. We’re okay.”

He flinched. “‘We?’ How many people are down there?”

“Six. There are six of us here.”

R
ight after she denied having the knife, they both heard the wood creak upstairs far away from where Julia was running the faucet water. The man named Tyler looked suspicious and stared up the staircase, probably expecting to see someone other than Julia walk down. But nobody came. Saffron watched him listen and then saw him pull out a gun. She wanted to listen too, but all she could do was focus on the gun she was sure would soon point at her head.

Then a man’s voice upstairs said, “Hands where I can see them,” and Tyler seemed to forget all about her and the knife she was hiding. He started moving toward the stairs while she listened intently at anything that came from above.

Saffron looked at the other women and saw hope in their faces. She felt the knife press against her palm. She wiggled her hand a little until she was able to grab the butt and started to move the switchblade up and down against her ligatures. Every other move or so, she felt the knife cut against her skin, but she didn’t care. It didn’t even hurt. When Tyler disappeared up the stairs, her movements accelerated until her hand was freed from the tape.

As soon as she started working on the other hand, she heard the man upstairs say, “I’m a deputy sheriff. You need to drop your weapon right now.” The voice sounded familiar. She knew him. She froze. It couldn’t be. She listened intently as she cut the tape around the other hand and then her feet. She stayed seated for a few seconds, trying to listen for Tyler’s steps walking back down. But then she heard the voice again say, “Don’t be stupid, both of you. I’m a cop. I can take you both down before you have time to cock the gun. Just put the weapons down.” And she couldn’t help herself but smiled.

“Darcy?” she yelled, mostly to make sure she wasn’t dreaming it.

“Saffron?”

“Oh my God,” she replied.

She knew everything was going to be okay. He’d come here to rescue them. She didn’t care if Tyler came back down. She got up and walked to the woman with the short hair first. Taking the tape off of her mouth Saffron whispered, “Please be quiet. We have to act quickly.” The woman nodded, and as soon as she was free, she went to work on releasing the Indian woman.

“Are you okay?” Darcy asked from above.

“Yes. We’re okay.”

Saffron started freeing the woman with the blond bob. She looked terrified and emitted guttural sounds, as if she were an injured animal.

“‘We?’ How many people are down there?” Darcy asked her.

“Six. There are six of us here,” she responded, not needing to check first.

“Is everybody okay?”

“No. One person is dead and another one may be. I’m not sure.”

Then, to the blond woman, she said, “Shush. Everything’s going to be okay. The police are here.” She kept saying it as she worked on getting her loose. “You have to stay here until it’s safe to go upstairs, okay?” Saffron wanted to make sure she understood, so before she cut the last binding, she looked into her eyes and asked her again.

“Yes,” the blond woman said, nodding at the same time.

Saffron cut the last binding. The woman jumped out of her chair, pushing Saffron to the floor, and started running toward the stairs, screaming, “Save me, save me.”

D
arcy was trying to figure out what his next move should be. He had two guns pointing at him. He only had one, and he knew he was not a good shot anymore. There were six people in the basement. One or possibly two were dead.

Loud steps and a desperate voice shouting “Save me, save me” filled the house. A blond woman came running up the stairs so fast that Tyler didn’t have enough time to react. She steamrolled him, pushing him down. He fell forward, stopping the fall with his hands. The gun went off. The bullet fired in Darcy’s direction but missed him by a couple feet. The blond tripped over her own shoes and fell down a few stairs, grabbing onto Tyler’s shirt, making him fall backwards with her.

The woman in the kitchen, still aiming the gun at Darcy, was now focused on what was happening on the stairs. Darcy used the distraction and ran toward her. The front door opened. She looked up. Darcy looked backwards and saw Sorensen’s large body fill the door. The woman pointed the gun at the larger target.

“No!” Darcy said, jumping toward her, as she pulled the trigger.

He fell on her, making sure all of his weight landed on her smaller frame. He heard a rib crack, and she screamed in his ear. She still held the gun in her hand. Darcy grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she let go of the weapon. He shoved it to the other side of the room and looked back at Sorensen. “Are you hit?” he asked, looking at his partner sprawled on the floor.

“I’m okay. I don’t think I’ve ever kissed the floor this fast.”

He got up and walked toward them.

“Stay away from the basement. Warren’s there,” Darcy warned Sorensen.

Sorensen stepped a few feet away from its entrance, walked toward them and oversaw Darcy putting handcuffs on the woman.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here, but if you don’t let us leave, I’m burning the place down with everybody in it,” Tyler said from downstairs.

Sorensen looked at Darcy, searching for corroboration.

“I saw three cans of gasoline downstairs,” he whispered.

Sorensen pulled his phone out. “We’re fucked,” he mouthed to Darcy, showing him that there wasn’t even a bar. Then walked toward the door to see if he could get better reception.

“I have five people here. You come down and let me tie you up so we can get out of here, or I’ll start the fire right now.”

“We can’t come down. You’ll shoot us the moment we step on the stairs,” Darcy said.

“I won’t. I don’t want to kill people. All I want is to leave with my sister.”

“I tell you what. Let the hostages go first, then we can talk.”

“Don’t be patronizing. Come down right now.”

S
affron cursed herself for trusting the blond woman. She knew she was way too freaked out to be able to do anything but run. She watched Tyler push her away him and get off the floor. He froze in place when he saw they were all free from the bindings.

Saffron wondered if they could take him if they jumped him at the same time. Tyler focused on her first, as if he had just read her mind, then he waved the gun, aiming from one to another at random.

Tyler picked up one of the red cans and lifted it toward them. “You. Come here,” he said, talking to the woman with the short hair.

She hesitated for a second, but when he aimed the gun at her, she started walking toward him.

“I want you to empty the can on the floor, starting on that corner.” He pointed to where Keith laid facedown.

She grabbed the can but didn’t get a grip on the handle, and it fell on the ground. The can flopped and everybody stared, waiting for it to spontaneously combust. When nothing happen, Tyler yelled, “What are you waiting for? Do it now.”

The woman walked toward the corner and started pouring gasoline. The stink instantly filled the basement, completely masking the stench of Keith’s blood.

Tyler picked up another can and shoved it in Saffron’s direction.

“Start on the other corner,” he said, pointing to it with the gun.

She took the can and started walking very slowly.

“Wait,” Darcy said from upstairs.

Saffron stood still, barely a few steps from Tyler. The other woman stopped pouring gas. Saffron turned to face the stairs.

“I’m going to come down. But my partner is upstairs holding your sister. If you shoot at me, he’ll kill you both. Do you understand me?”

Tyler looked back, taking in the basement, smelling the gasoline mixed with the sweat of fear.

“Okay,” Tyler said.

“One more thing. I want you to come to the bottom of the stairs so I can see you.”

“You think I’m stupid?”

“No, but I’m not either.”

Saffron saw Tyler hesitate. He was thinking about his options. After a few seconds, he turned toward the Indian woman, grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her. She screamed in pain.

“If you hurt anybody I’m not coming down,” Darcy said.

A second later Tyler walked behind the woman toward the stairs. He was glued behind her, with the muzzle of his gun pressing against her temple.

“If you try anything funny, I’ll shoot her.”

“I’m coming down,” Darcy said and started descending, planting both feet onto each step before continuing to the next one. His gun was drawn but pointed downward.

As he descended, Tyler moved backwards toward the wall behind him and away from the stairs, dragging the woman with him.

Saffron watched as Darcy appeared. He was methodical, careful, and as soon as his head was below the ceiling, she saw him take in the basement, all of it.

“Okay, now I’m here. Why don’t you let her go upstairs?”

“I can’t do that.”

“What, you really think you’re going to kill us all and walk away? As we speak, backup is pulling into the driveway.” He said this and let it set for a few seconds. “You only have one option. You need to surrender and let everybody go.”

“You don’t understand. We’re so close. We have the cure for cancer. These people are already dead, and you’re going to kill many more from the disease if you don’t let me go.”

“They’re not dead. You can choose to let them go.”

“We are, actually,” Saffron said. “We were this asshole’s guinea pigs and he screwed up and now we are all dead, just like him,” she said, pointing at the man bleeding on the floor.

Saffron saw Darcy shake a shiver as he started to comprehend the women’s fate. He looked where she was pointing and saw two men: The large one was lying in a pool of his own blood, the other one was soaked in it.

“Is that Alton Lane?” Darcy asked, recognizing the vest and pushing away the thought of Saffron’s fate.

Nobody responded. Nobody knew.

“Who is he? Is he dead?”

“No. The other one, Keith, is dead.”

“Why did you kill him?” he turned to ask Tyler.

“I didn’t. He was dead when I got here. He killed himself.”

Saffron saw the gears turn in Darcy’s head. She saw how he was making the connection from the cancer to the suicides to the people in the basement.

“That’s what all of this is about? To get rid of the evidence that you screwed up an unapproved human trial?” Darcy asked Tyler.

Tyler didn’t say a word. He looked exhausted, defeated.

“Listen, if these people are already dead, then let them go and spend what little time they have left with their loved ones.”

“No.” Tyler shook his head. “I can’t do that. You’ll never let me finish our work.”

“Tyler, you have a son.” Darcy saw Tyler’s surprise fill his eyes. “Wouldn’t you want to spend your last days with Lucas?” he pushed.

Saffron saw Tyler flinch. He looked sad, as if he finally realized these were people with lives and families, not lab rats.

“All I wanted was to save people,” he said under his breath.

He loosened the grip on the Indian woman but before he released her arm, he shoved her toward Darcy. She tripped and fell forward. Darcy met her halfway and managed to stop the fall. In the meantime Tyler grabbed Saffron and now pointed the gun to her temple.

“That one can go up,” he said to Lynch, pointing at the Indian woman.

Saffron understood that Tyler wasn’t going to face Darcy man to man and would always use one of them as a human shield.

Darcy steadied the Indian woman and guided her toward the stairs. She started to climb. They all watched. Saffron’s heart was beating so hard she was sure Tyler could feel her pulse against his arm. The muzzle of the gun pressed hard against her head. She remembered the knife. It was in her pocket. She wondered if she could kill him just because he had killed her, if that would make her feel any better about being dead. She questioned if she would have enough time to get the knife and stab him before he realized what she was doing. Before he could shoot her.

She shifted as if she was losing her balance. He readjusted his stance after her. Then she dropped the can of gas on the floor and leaned a little, grabbing the knife from her pocket. This time the noise didn’t startle anybody. They all looked but then went back to watch the Indian woman leave hell.

Saffron gripped the knife with all her strength with the blade toward her and drove it into Tyler’s leg. He screamed and bent over. Saffron tried to get loose, but his grasp was too strong.

“What the fuck?” he yelled.

Both of his hands were occupied, so he couldn’t pull the knife out. Saffron fought to get free, but he wouldn’t let go. Tyler pulled the trigger. Saffron froze.

The sound of the bullet leaving the barrel and crushing bone filled the air. Saffron’s body flew backwards, falling onto Tyler’s chest.

Darcy ran toward them. He kicked Tyler’s hand as hard as he could, sending the gun flying across the room. It came to a stop on Alton’s shoulder. Darcy took Saffron’s hand and pulled her off the floor.

“I’m alive?” she asked, wanting to hug him.

“Yep,” Darcy replied kneeling down to check Tyler’s vitals.

Saffron looked and saw a clean bullet hole on Tyler’s forehead and blood spreading underneath his head. She didn’t feel pity for the man. She looked back at Keith and wished again that Harper hadn’t run out of bullets so soon.