The Killer Trail (28 page)

“Good to have you back with us, buddy.” He dragged his chair to the side of the bed, then handed the day's
Sun
to Chris. “You've made the headlines... again.” The front page displayed a picture of Chris' bullet-ridden truck and went on to report the attack on him the night before.

Chris realized he was once again at the Health Sciences Centre. “What happened, how'd I get here?”

“Glass splinters punctured your skin, and you lost some blood.” Brandon looked at Chris' bandaged neck and arms and grinned. “Could have been far worse, of course. They could have scratched your pretty face.”

“Come on, Brandon, I'm not in the mood for joking. You know what I meant. Who did it?”

The sergeant got serious. “The running theory is that Charles Longville tried to eliminate you from his witness list and failed. Fortunately, it's only a matter of time before he's taken into custody himself. The CFSEU suspected Longville might make an attempt on your life, so they stationed officers outside your apartment building as a precaution. The boys moved in and arrested the shooter once he opened fire on you.”

Chris was confused. “Hold on. They
knew
someone was being sent to kill me?” He sat up as Brandon's words sunk in. “But they sat back and watched him take potshots at me before they did anything about it? What the hell is that?” His face went red with fury.

Brandon took a moment before responding. “I can't speak for the CFSEU or their actions. What I
can
tell you, though, is that this situation with Longville is highly political, hugely complicated, and you're stuck right in the middle of it all.”

“Great! What else is new? Why don't you guys just paint a target on me and be done with it?”

“Chris, if I'd had anything to do with it, I would've done things differently. But the CFSEU is running the investigation now, and I'm not involved. You also have to realize that there's intense pressure to build an ironclad case against Longville. You can be sure he'll bring in a team of lawyers who'll exploit any loophole that helps them shoot down allegations made against him.”

He let Chris process that information before continuing. “My guess is that the officers stationed outside your apartment waited until the last possible moment to be absolutely certain you were being targeted, and then they moved in as soon as they could. On the positive side, now they can file additional charges of attempted murder against Longville's associates.”

“I'm
so
glad I was able to help.” Chris' voice dripped with sarcasm. “Wait a minute. You're not involved in this case at all?”

The sergeant shook his head. “I had to go through a major hassle just to come visit you here today.”

“Why?”

“CFSEU Superintendent Patterson is still mad at me for not bringing him into the loop earlier on this case so he denied me access. I went to my superintendent, and from the sound of it, they got into a giant pissing match.”

“Who won?”

The sergeant grinned. “Well, I'm here, aren't I?” Then he sighed. “But not in any official capacity. This is their baby. I'm here today... as a friend.”

Chris looked at the sergeant with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “Thanks, Brandon. Really. I could use a friend these days.” He paused for a moment. “So what's happening with Ray? Do you know?”

Brandon filled Chris in on the incident at the Pre-Trial Centre.

“Do they think Longville is behind that too?”

“What we know is that the victim was heard to be boasting about the huge payoff he would receive for taking Owens out. We believe one of Longville's men put the word out that their boss wanted Owens killed. Now Longville's struck out twice, and I suspect he's only going to get so many kicks at the can before his associates take care of it for him.”

“Great, so I have
that
to look forward to.”

“Actually, Chris, I think the pressure's going to ease off you, at least in the short term.”

“How's that?”

“Longville hasn't gotten the job done, and that's bound to be making people nervous. So if anyone's feeling the pressure, it's Longville and whoever his source is within the RCMP.”

“There's no news on who that source might be?”

“No, but believe me, if we do have a rotten apple in our organization, I'm going to find him before he spoils the whole damn barrel. In any case, where you're concerned, it's likely seen as too risky to warrant anyone taking another shot at you for the foreseeable future. And Owens isn't going anywhere anytime soon, so that takes care of him.”

They both sat in silence for a moment. Then Brandon said, “Oh, and here's something you might find amusing. Owens had a weapon—a toothbrush that we believe he smuggled in from IFP. I won't tell you where we think he hid it but it's safe to say both IFP and Corrections are blaming each other for the security breach. Covering their
ass
, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. Very funny.” Chris tried to smile at the news, but failed.

Brandon stared at him. “Is there something you're not telling me?”

Chris shook his head, then filled the sergeant in on what he had discovered about his family connection with Ray. He felt embarrassed acknowledging that the man he hated more than anyone in this world was related to him by blood.

“Wow. I'm really sorry, Chris. That's a pretty big burden to bear.” He paused, then pointed to what appeared to be an old mark above his eye. “We all have our scars. Some are just more visible than others. You'll get through this. You're a survivor.”

Chris wanted to ask about his friend's scar, but now was not the right time. He pondered Brandon's statement about being a survivor. With his seemingly endless stream of problems, Chris had been feeling more like a victim. But it occurred to him now that Brandon was right, that he had successfully come through each encounter and the experience had made him stronger.

The two friends sat there silently for a few minutes, both contemplating the implications of being targeted by a psychopath. Finally, Brandon placed his hand on Chris' shoulder. “Whatever happens, you won't be alone.”

“Thanks, Brandon. I appreciate it.”

“Don't mention it, buddy. The fact of the matter is, I think we make a great team.”

Chris reflected for a minute. “You know what? I feel the same way.”

The sergeant grinned. “And don't forget, you owe me a beer.” He looked down at the newspaper. “That reminds me: a reporter's been waiting outside hoping to land an interview with you. What do you want to do?”

Chris gave a weary sigh. “I'm not interested in talking to anybody. Can you—”

“Send him away? Sure. It'll be my pleasure. We'll talk soon.” With a parting wave, Brandon left the room.

Chris lay back in his bed and shut his eyes, hoping to get some rest. He heard a light knock and the door slowly opening. Thinking it was the reporter, he was preparing to launch into a protest when, to his pleasant surprise, he saw it was Deanna and Ann Marie in the doorway.

His eyes met his daughter's. She looked scared. “Hey, sweetie, come on in. It's okay.” Deanna was visibly upset, so he attempted a joke: “I just can't get enough of this place. How did you know I was here?”

“The hospital called early this morning.” She looked pointedly at the newspaper on Chris' bed. “Besides, it's hard to miss when you're on the front page.”

“Well, I'm glad you came.” He could see that Ann Marie was apprehensive about coming closer to him. Figuring that his bandages were making her uncomfortable, he said gently, “It's okay, Ann. I had a bit of an accident, but everything's all right now.”

“Did a bad guy try to hurt you, Daddy?”

Chris wasn't sure how to respond. He finally opted for a sanitized version of the truth to try to reassure her. “Yes, sweetie. But the police caught him, and he's not going to hurt anyone anymore.”

“Does it hurt?” She pointed to his neck.

“No. They've taken really good care of me, and hopefully I'll get to go home soon.”

Deanna looked at Chris. “The doctor said you're free to go anytime now. We'll give you a ride home.”

Ann Marie looked excitedly at her mother. “Can Daddy come home with us?”

Chris rescued Deanna from the awkward situation. “Sweetie, I need to go to my own home today. But I'll see you on Saturday, right?”

“Okay.” She looked disappointed, but then perked up. “Can we go to Wilbur's on Saturday?”

He laughed. “We sure can. They should give us our own table after all the times we've been there, don't you think?”

The smile returned to Ann Marie's face. “I like going there with you, Daddy.”

“Yeah, me too.” Chris smiled back. “So, how about we get out of here?”

Charles Longville hurried about his mansion. He had some serious damage control to deal with. When he'd learned from his source at the RCMP that Ray's cell phone had been recovered, he knew it would only be a matter of time before the police connected it to him unless he acted swiftly and diverted the investigation.

He wasn't sure who he detested more—Ray Owens or Chris Ryder. He'd ordered them both killed, but the bastards had an uncanny knack for survival. Well, they weren't the only ones with nine lives. Longville was working feverishly on his contingency plan. With Pierce Hennessy in police custody, Longville would work to pin the whole affair on Hennessy and his goons. He knew he had to make the phone disappear once and for all to completely evade prosecution, but his snitch at the RCMP had not returned his calls all day.
Who the
hell does he think he is!
Longville knew there was only one thing he could do—pay his pet cop a personal visit and remind him where his money was coming from.

He grabbed the keys to his BMW and opened the front door, only to be greeted by a man he recognized as one of Hennessy's associates. “What the hell are you doing here?” Longville was livid. “I thought I made myself clear to your boss that no one
ever
makes direct contact with me. And what do you do? You show up at my bloody
house.
Get in here.” The two men entered, and Longville slammed the door behind them. “Why aren't you going after Chris Ryder? Your boss is going to hear about this, believe me.” Only after the door was closed did he realize that his visitor had not come emptyhanded.

“My boss sent me to deliver a message. Ryder's not a problem right now.
You
are.”

Longville struggled to come to terms with what was happening. There had to be a way for him to walk away from this situation. But for once he came up empty—no solution, no contingency plan, nothing. And in the split second before the bullet shattered his skull, Longville realized that, for the first and last time in his life, he was powerless.

At home, Chris was intent on doing little more than resting his exhausted body. He retrieved a message from Gerald wishing him a speedy recovery and was about to lie down when the phone rang.