Personal Justice (11 page)

“I realize I can’t keep them out of this entirely, but tell them to be careful. We already suspect Norton killed at least one person, and we know he beats his wife. If he’s the one who made the attempt on Annie, either himself, or with a pro, then he needs to be stopped ASAP. He’s proven himself to be a violent person.”

“We’ll get him,” Hank said.

Diego dropped his elbows on the armrests and steepled his fingers under his chin. He didn’t share his thoughts, but rather dismissed the detectives with a wave. “Go home now, guys. You can get back at it in the morning.”

Hank stood. “I’ll finish the reports then I’ll be out of here.” He turned to go. “Goodnight, Captain.”

Diego waved again, his eyes buried in a file folder. “Good night.”

King followed Hank from the office, crossed the quiet room, and went out the front door.

Hank returned to his desk and sat, pulling a file toward him. He looked at his watch. This was going to be an early night for a change. He would have time to drop by and see Amelia before going home, and he hoped to get an early start the next morning.

Chapter 20

DAY 3 - Wednesday, 8:35 a.m.

JAKE HUSTLED MATTY and Kyle out the front door of the house and into the Firebird. He glanced toward the patrol car parked at the curb. The same two cops had been there most of the night, keeping a close eye on the house.

One of the officers called Jake’s phone from time to time, keeping in touch, reassuring them, and checking to see if everything was all right inside the house.

Jake started the vehicle and pulled from the driveway, stopping beside the cruiser. He rolled down his window. “You guys okay?”

The cop in the driver seat nodded. “All quiet last night. Everything all right in the house?”

Jake nodded, and the other cop looked over and stifled a yawn.

“Annie’s making you guys a cup of coffee. She’ll be out in a minute.”

“Sounds good,” the driver said, looking at his watch. “We still have a couple hours to go before some fresh guys get here.”

Jake waved a hand and pulled away. He appreciated the watch put on the house, but didn’t expect the would-be killer to return. Nonetheless, they were threatened, and the safety of his family was his top priority.

North Richmond Public School was only two blocks from the house and Matty usually walked to school with Kyle, his best friend who lived next door to the Lincolns, but today Jake wasn’t taking any chances.

He drove to the school, pulled in front, and escorted the boys to the door of the building. He waited until they were inside before returning to the car.

He opened the vehicle door and glanced around. It was a warm day, too warm for anything other than a t-shirt, and certainly too warm to be wearing a ski mask. And the man now approaching him from the rear of the car not only wore a ski mask, but the upraised pistol in his hand showed he meant business.

Jake dropped to the ground as the weapon spat lead. The bullet zipped over his head and through the open window of the car.

The second shot followed immediately, but by then, Jake had rolled to the side. He stumbled to the front of his vehicle on all fours. He heard footsteps, following, relentless. He dove to the opposite side of the car and looked around for some means of protection.

The vehicle wouldn’t cover him for long. The assassin only needed one clear shot and it would be all over.

His first instinct was to run directly away from the car, toward the school, but his second instinct took over. There were kids that way. A lot of kids, and a stray shot could hit any one of them.

He took a chance and poked his head up. The gunman was at the front of the vehicle. One more step and Jake would be in the open, totally vulnerable.

He dove to the back of the vehicle as the shooter approached the side, the deadly weapon ready to fire at a split-second’s notice.

Jake sprang to his feet and raced across the street, running at an angle, praying the assassin wasn’t adept enough to hit a moving target.

A bullet whined past his head and he ducked, hit the ground, and rolled behind a tree at the edge of the sidewalk. He was safe for a couple of seconds, but a quick glance around the tree trunk showed his assailant still approaching.

He turned and raced down the sidewalk, but in a moment the shooter was directly behind him. Another bullet whistled past, dangerously close. He was fully exposed, and now the gunman was running after him—that would throw off his aim, but how long would it be until a bullet found its mark?

People were on the sidewalk ahead of him as well as across the street. Many ducked out of sight when they heard the shots, most still in danger from a stray bullet.

He dipped to the left and ran toward the side of a house. That would be safer for him and everyone around, and he hoped there was no one behind the dwelling.

Keeping low, he reached the side of the house and glanced over his shoulder. His pursuer was still coming, never giving up, determined and deadly.

He dashed to the rear of the house and looked around for a weapon, but with only seconds to spare, there was no time to waste.

Should he circle the house? The killer might have the same idea and could turn back and cut him off. He made a quick decision and ran to the rear of the property. He hopped a small fence dividing it from the neighbor behind, racing along the side of the house toward the next street over.

Another shot exploded, this time flattening itself against the brick wall of the house, inches from his head.

This maniac was persistent and seemed to be determined.

Jake finally reached the street and he crossed over, ducked behind a tree, and glanced back. The madman pursued.

An idea struck him. Carver Street and their house was one block over, on the next street parallel to where he was. He whipped out his cell phone, found the last inbound caller, and hit redial.

“Everything okay?” the officer asked.

“It’s Jake. I’m half a block away on foot and I’m being pursued by a gunman.” He took another glance and crossed the front yard of the house, heading toward Carver.

“I’ll be coming from beside the house to your left about three doors up,” Jake spoke quickly into the phone. “And he’s behind me.”

“We’re on it.” Jake heard the car door open. The officers would be prepared.

He glanced back as he hopped the hedge between the two dwellings. The hitman was close. He had lost some ground as he made the call. The gunman stopped and leveled his weapon.

Jake ducked as the assailant fired and the bullet missed its target.

He sprang to his feet, crossed the back yard at an angle, and raced up the side of the house. Carver Street was directly ahead. Just a few more seconds.

He hit the sidewalk, running fast, and crossed the street. A sideways glance showed the gunman but a moment behind.

Down the street, he saw the police cruiser parked in front of his house. The officers were out of the vehicle, heading toward him a step at a time, their guns drawn and ready. They’d seen him.

He ducked behind a tree and spun back around. The hitman had reached the sidewalk across the street, stopped, and then stepped into the street, sighting down the barrel of his weapon, directly at the tree where Jake waited.

He glanced to his left. The officers were fifty feet away, still approaching.

Forty feet.

Thirty feet.

The killer spun his head to the left and stopped short in the middle of the street.

“Put your weapon down,” an officer yelled. “Now.”

The gunman whirled to face the cops, crouched, and fired a shot. It missed, and the officer fired back, the bullet whining through the spot the shooter occupied a split second before. The hitman leaped aside, sprang to his feet, and ran for cover, back the way he came.

Jake watched the officers pursue the maniac until they were out of sight.

Several minutes later, they returned empty handed.

The cops had called for backup. The surrounding streets would be thoroughly searched, but the would-be killer was undoubtedly long gone.

Chapter 21

Wednesday, 9:18 a.m.

ANNIE HAD HEARD gunfire coming from the street, and when she looked out the front window, she saw Jake standing on the sidewalk, the pair of officers dashing across the lawn of the neighbor’s house. She was relieved to see Jake was unharmed, but his vehicle was nowhere in sight.

A few minutes later, Jake came in and explained what had happened. “Matty and Kyle are okay,” he said. “They were safely inside the school before any of this started.”

She heard the whine of sirens in the distance. More than one vehicle was approaching the neighborhood, and officers would immediately set up roadblocks and scour the area.

Annie was concerned at the brazen persistence of the gunman. He’d obviously done some research and knew Jake would be dropping Matty at school. Or perhaps he assumed as much and had alternate plans. Either way, she believed the would-be assassin would make another attempt. It was obvious he was after both of them.

Jake appeared to be unfazed by the alarming incident, but she knew he was concerned and wouldn’t take this standing still. And neither would she.

“If you drive me to pick up my car,” Jake said. “I should run down to RHPD and fill out a report.”

While Annie went to get her handbag and keys, Jake gave Hank a call to fill him in. When Annie joined Jake, he told her the detective was shocked and deeply concerned for their safety. Hank was doing an interview at the moment, but would soon be on his way back to the precinct and would meet them there.

They locked up the house, got into Annie’s car, and headed out.

Officers already swarmed the neighborhood, cruisers and cops everywhere, stopping cars and canvassing houses in the area. An officer waved Annie down, and after a cursory glance through the window, they motioned her through.

Jake’s vehicle was still where he’d left it. Someone had closed the driver side door, and though it was the least of his worries, he was relieved to see it hadn’t sustained any damage.

He drove it home, Annie following in her Escort. He left it in the driveway, got back into Annie’s car, and turned to face her as she pulled out of the driveway.

“I think we should get you a vest,” he said. “This guy’s determined.”

Annie glanced over at her husband. It would be a good idea if both of them wore bulletproof vests for now. Jake had one at home that had saved his life in an earlier case, and she would ask Hank if they had one small enough to fit her.

She turned her eyes back on the road. “I’ll wear one if you wear yours,” she said.

Jake agreed. “It’s a deal. We’ll talk to Hank.”

In a few minutes, Annie pulled into the precinct parking lot and eased into one of the guest spots. She stepped from the vehicle and looked around, half-expecting to see the gunman waiting. He wasn’t, and she and Jake went into the precinct.

Captain Diego watched them come through the front doors and called them over. He stood in the doorway of his office, his usual pleasant face twisted into a frown of concern. He smiled grimly and greeted them with a nod.

“I spoke to Hank yesterday about you two,” the captain said. He folded his arms and leaned against the door frame. “As if it’s not bad enough that someone’s out to get you, we don’t know who, or why.”

“We’re going to find out who,” Jake said. “And why.”

“I’m concerned about your involvement in this case,” Diego said.

Annie put a hand on one hip. “We’re already involved whether we like it or not,” she said. “It’s become personal.”

“And dangerous,” Diego said, his frown deepening.

Annie looked at Jake then back at the captain. “We’ll be careful. We appreciate your concern, Captain Diego.” She paused. “I have a favor to ask.”

Diego raised his brows.

“Can I borrow a bulletproof vest?”

Diego chuckled. “Of course.” He held up a finger. “Remember, these vests aren’t bulletproof, just bullet resistant. You can still sustain some damage if you get hit, especially at close range.”

“I’m aware of that,” Annie said. “Jake can attest to that first hand.”

The captain glanced toward the door and Annie followed his gaze. Hank and King had come in, and Diego called to Hank.

The detective nodded, beckoned toward them, and then went to his desk. Annie thanked Captain Diego and they approached Hank.

“It appears the captain wants us to back off,” Jake said.

Hank sat his briefcase beside his desk, sat down, and leaned back in his chair. “And you don’t want to, I assume?”

“We can’t,” Annie said, sitting in the guest chair. She leaned forward. “If we back off we become easier targets.”

“I’d better fill out a statement,” Jake said. “While I do, Hank, can you fit Annie with a vest?”

“Sure,” Hank said, standing. He beckoned toward Annie and she followed him across the room, through a door, and into the lower level of the building.

She heard some muffled shooting; someone was in the firing range close by.

Hank selected a vest and handed it to her. “This should fit you. Do you know how to put it on?”

“I do.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Annie had worn a thin cardigan over her t-shirt and she removed it, fastened the bulky vest in place, and put the cardigan over top. It was a little uncomfortable and rather awkward at first, but she felt safer.

“Make sure Jake wears his,” Hank said.

Jake had finished with his statement when they returned to Hank’s desk. The detective read it over. “There’s not much here,” he said to Jake.

“There’s not a lot to tell. He wore a ski mask, so I didn’t see his face, and I was too busy running to see much more.”

Hank dropped the paper on his desk and sat back. “King and I came from Smokie’s Bar. The owner attested Shaft and Norton knew each other. They were frequent visitors to the bar and entered all the tournaments. He confirmed, as far as he knew, neither of their wives ever came with them.”