by Blake Pierce
Ace reached up to alleviate the pressure on his neck, but his attacker pushed him off.
“Sir, please listen to me. Your dad is gone and isn’t coming back. Taking revenge on his friends isn’t going to help you.”
“What the hell do you know? You think you know me?”
Ella had to keep this man calm. She saw how he reacted at the Barry Windham crime scene. Rage meant violence.
“No, I don’t know much about you at all, but I know why you’re doing this, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to. I can help you.”
“You’re lying. You don’t know anything about me.”
Ella saw a crack she could open up. If she couldn’t talk this man down, and she doubted she could, she needed time to get a clean shot. If she could just get Ace out of the way for a split second, she could take this man down.
“No I don’t, so why don’t you tell me? Why have you killed three people? Alan, Jimmy, Barry. Why?”
“Don’t say their names. Those pieces of shit don’t deserve to be spoken of ever again.”
Ella kept it going. Time was her friend here. “Why? What did they do to you?”
“They made my life hell is what they did. My dad’s coin collecting buddies. Death is too good for them.”
“I’m confused here. What exactly do you despise about coin collecting?”
“I couldn’t give a shit about coin collecting. My dad was the collector, but he dragged me into it. Every day, he’d make me rummage through trash, go to stupid garage sales, spend my entire life looking for coins. It ruined me. It broke me.”
They said the greatest burden a child could bear was the unlived life of his parents. Here was living proof. “But why Alan and Jimmy and Barry? They did nothing to you.”
“They knew my old man. I was dragged to see them every single week, sitting alone in their houses while my dad talked shit with them for hours. If I complained or made a sound, my dad would smack the hell out of me. These assholes overlooked that.” He pushed his knife harder into Ace’s neck. “Didn’t you?”
“Brad, we had no idea. I swear on my life,” Ace shouted. “We thought your father was a good man.”
Ella caught his name.
“Bullshit. You knew full well what he was like. You just didn’t care because he gave you money. That was all you cared about. All my dad cared about. All he wanted was one coin to make him rich. I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I found a coin that was worth a dime, he might start loving me. Never happened.”
“I’m sorry, Brad,” cried Ace. “I didn’t know. You don’t have to do this.”
“Brad, I know all about childhood trauma. Killing these men won’t make that pain go away. You have an internal pain that you’re trying to address externally. Why don’t you talk about it with me?”
“You think I’m a sucker? The second I let this guy go, you’re going to shoot me. Well, that isn’t gonna happen.”
Ella’s finger itched on the trigger. Brad was clearly in control of his mental faculties, not psychotic. He knew what he was doing. What was the solution here? Wait until Brad killed Ace and then fire? Or take a shot right now and hope for the best?
No, another good man couldn’t die because of this psychopath. There had to be a way to make him lower his guard. All she needed was a fleeting moment.
“Brad, those coins you left at the crime scenes. They were your father’s?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not sure if you know this, but your father wasn’t exactly a very knowledgeable collector,” Ella said. She wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but it would come to her. Backup couldn’t be too far away now. But even when they arrived, Ace’s life would still hang in the balance.
So it was on her to draw this man out.
“One of those coins you had. It was worth a lot.”
“What? Stop lying to me. Does anyone tell the truth anymore?” Brad screamed. Ella saw the anger and frustration beginning to mount. She didn’t have long before he reached his limit.
“I’m not. We had them all appraised by an expert. Six coins in total, right? Five of them were common, but that one… holy moly.”
“You’re talking out of your ass. Which one?”
Kennedy, Japan, China was how she remembered them. “The Chinese one. Shen-si Province, 1964.”
“That coin isn’t worth a thing.”
“You’re right, it’s not. Not usually. But the coin you had was a misprint. They’d etched one of the characters wrong.”
Brad held her stare with his black beady eyes. It was difficult to gauge his response by the light of the single lamp in the room, but what she did see was his grip slightly loosen.
“Lies,” he said.
“Don’t believe me? I can show you the proof right here.”
The atmosphere in the room changed. Ella felt Brad’s intentions altering.
“Prove it.”
Ella reached into her pocket, wondering where exactly to go from here. If she didn’t produce something, Brad would act out in frustration. She found something plastic inside her jacket.
The coin I found on Steen, she thought.
It wasn’t the Chinese coin, but under the shadow of darkness, she hoped Brad wouldn’t see that.
“Here,” she pulled out the item. “Here it is. They actually gifted it to me since I was the one who found it.”
“How much?” Brad asked with a staccato voice.
“A hundred grand, give or take. Maybe even more to a collector in Asia.”
“Give it to me,” Brad said.
Ella put the coin back in her pocket, away from closer inspection. “I was actually going to give it to Ace. He’s got eight kids. He needs it more than me.”
“No, you give it to me. It’s mine. I found it,” Brad shouted.
Ella let the moment hang in the air. “Alright, but you gotta come and get it.”
“Throw your gun down. Over there,” Brad pointed to the far corner of the room.
Ella debated it. Was that a good idea? Did she have any other option?
She applied the safety latch and threw the pistol twenty feet away.
“Happy?”
Brad lowered his knife and took two steps to the left. “Show me the coin again.”
Ella shook her head. “Not until you get away from Ace. Then I’ll help you.” She watched Brad’s micro-expressions change as he weighed up the situation in his head. Curiosity turned to trepidation, and then finally, vulnerability. He tensed his shoulders, raised his knife, and pointed it at Ella.
“Coin. Now.”
Beyond the walls, Ella heard the sound of approaching police sirens.
Brad heard them too.
No, not now. I’m so close.
“You bitch. You don’t want to help me at all. You just want to take me down.”
“Brad, wait…” she pleaded, but it was too late. He turned, thrashed his knife around and caught Ace with the tip. Ace toppled backwards, clutching his shoulder as the attacker turned his rage towards Ella.
The last thing she saw was the gleaming tip of a steel blade heading right between her eyes.
Ella felt the hardwood floor against her spine. She’d avoided the blow but had tied up with her attacker and fallen to the ground. The blow had disoriented her for what felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was barely two seconds.
The boy had been quick, quicker than she anticipated. He was reasonably built, and he had speed and agility on his side too. Brad’s cries of rage combined with Ace’s screeching moans created a symphony of hellish sounds in her ear canals.
She jerked fast to avoid the boy’s strikes, coming at her in forceful but inaccurate blows. The knife pierced the wooden floorboards with every thrust, so loud it sounded as though it was her own eardrums being punctured. Ella arched up her knees and booted him in the abdomen, feeling his brittle bones crack at her feet. He flew off her, crashing against the far wall but resuming his attacks without stopping for breath. She caught
sight of Ace, collapsed on the sofa with a bleeding wound in his arm.
Brad came at her relentlessly, swinging his blade like a hooligan with a baseball bat. Ella sidestepped the oncoming attacks then found she was backing herself into a corner. Her priority was to get the weapon out of his hands to make it a fair fight. She fell back into the darkened corner of the room, dropped to a crouching position and charged at Brad’s mid-section.
The tip of his knife tinged her back for a brief moment. Ella cursed her misplaced ambition because a knife in the spine meant instant paralysis. She maneuvered around to his back, clutched his wrist from behind and shook violently to dislodge the weapon, but Brad pushed his feet against the wall, sending him and Ella flying back down the ground. The impact on the solid floor winded her, with Brad’s weighty torso crushing her ribs at the same time. She coughed up a spout of blood, knowing there’d be some internal organ damage somewhere. She didn’t have time to worry about it.
Still holding his wrist and keeping it immobile, Ella clutched her attacker around the neck with her forearm and choked with every ounce of power left in her. She felt his neck muscles expand and contract like a balloon, until phlegm poured from his mouth and nostrils. The boy was fading, and she wouldn’t let go until he was out. She tightened her grip, but a second later, all of her energy depleted with a single blow. The pain burned down her forearm and into her elbow with brutal intensity. Blood poured, dousing them both.
Then she saw the knife digging into her flesh. In desperation, Brad had somehow twisted his wrist and searched for the nearest attack point he could. Brad shot free from Ella’s grip, climbed on top of her. She defended his blows and grabbed his forearms, but the distance between the knife edge and her throat wasn’t great enough.
Footsteps thundered somewhere below them. A voice shouted something, but Ella couldn’t discern who it was or what they said. She was too busy trying to survive. The noise provided a momentary distraction and Ella was able to scramble up from her position, but Brad grabbed her from behind, wrapped his legs around her pushed the knife edge against her throat one more time. She held it back with both hands, but her energy levels were depleting rapidly. The pain was constant, sharp, and reaching unbearable levels.
Bang.
A figure manifested at the door, gun in hand.
“Stop right there. Let her go. Now,” Byford shouted.
“No!” Brad screamed at the new arrival. “Someone is dying tonight.”
“No one has to die tonight, my friend. Get up, or I’ll make this hurt.”
“Shoot him,” shouted Ella. “I can’t hold on.”
“No target,” Byford replied.
“Don’t care. Do it.”
It was a risk that had to be taken. Rather she be killed by an honest bullet than the hands of a serial killer.
“Just hold on, Ella. Trust me.”
“Shoot. Please. I can’t…”
Some people said your life flashed before your eyes the moment you died, but the truth was it didn’t. You just froze and pulled a revolting face because you were too scared to think.
Bang.
A deafening sound echoed around the room, like condensed thunder packed into a tiny space. Ella squeezed her eyes shut, felt the vibrations run through her, and prayed that something would be on the other side.
Bang.
Again.
“Ella, get up!” Byford screamed. When she came unstuck, there was no smoking pistol in her partner’s hands, but a hyperventilating man was standing behind her with a plank of wood in his hands. He fell back with exhaustion, and Ella realized that Ace had just smashed the life out of her aggressor with his last ounce of strength.
Here was her chance. Brad was still only disoriented because she could feel resistance when she pushed his blade away. She scrambled to her feet, Brad in tow. She clutched his arm, pulled him closer to her and smashed her palm against his nose. His bones shattered beneath the force, painting her hand a deep shade of red. Brad flailed his blade around, lightly caressing Ella’s skin, and then she saw an opportunity for victory. She ran at the boy, coming at him from the right-hand side. She wrapped her left leg around his stomach and brought him down to the ground face-first. Brad screamed out, kicking like a maniac, but Ella had full control over his lower half. She clutched his ankle, hyper-extending to the point of snapping it in two.
Brad screamed into the floor, trying to reach behind him and stab, but the position made it impossible. She kept the ankle lock in place while Byford ran in and pushed his foot against Brad’s wrists. She pulled the submission harder, and it was clear that both Brad’s energy and willpower were fading away.
His hand outstretched, dropping his weapon.
“Go,” Ella shouted.
Byford cuffed the boy’s hands. Then his feet.
Ella collapsed against the wall, catching her breath. She studied the wound on her arm, knowing it would get worse before it got better. She crawled over to Ace, wounded but still breathing. Brothers in battle, she thought.
“Ace, are you okay? We’ll get medics here in a second.”
“Been better, been worse,” he said with a smile.
“You saved my ass,” Ella said. “Big time.”
Ace denied it. “No, your partner saved your ass. He distracted the kid, I just smacked him. Team effort.”
“My coin,” Brad said as he rolled onto his back. “You have to give it to me.”
Ella looked at Ace, telling him the truth with a simple glance.
“Brad,” Ace said. “That coin isn’t worth shit. You got played.”
Brad went to make a sound, but Byford stood over him with his pistol trained on him. The killer fell quiet.
“Game over,” Byford said.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Ella Dark and Nigel Byford packed up their equipment and readied themselves to leave Delaware. Sheriff Hunter walked into the room, a little less tired than he looked before. He must have gotten some sleep the night before, Ella thought.
“I’m sad you’re leaving us,” the sheriff said. “Mighty fine work on both your parts.”
“Don’t thank me. Ella’s the one who figured it out,” Byford said.
Ella appreciated the admiration, but it always came with embarrassment. “Thanks, guys. I’m sorry to be leaving too.”
Sheriff Hunter put his hands on his hips. “Sorry for doubting you. I feel an awesome fool.”
Ella stuffed her laptop, cables, and paperwork into her bag and zipped it up. The thrill of the chase was why she agreed to these jobs, but the feeling of packing up following a successful case was unbeatable.
If only there weren’t just as many problems awaiting her when she got back.
“Don’t mention it. I made enough mistakes myself. I got through three suspects before I found the right one,” she laughed.
“Not a bad average, all things considered,” said Sheriff Hunter. “Anyway, our killer is singing like a bird. Looks like he’s been waiting a long time to wax lyrical about his plans.”
“What’s he saying?” Ella asked.
“Well, his name’s Brad Callis, 24 years old. His old man, Donald Callis, was pretty strict on him as a kid. Used to beat him black and blue. He was planning on killing his old man, but he woke up dead a couple of weeks ago. Heart attack. It sent the kid down a spiral.”
“Of course,” Ella said. “His father died in his sleep. That’s why he had to kill these men in their sleep. That’s why he flew into a rage when Barry Windham woke up.”
Sheriff Hunter pointed at Ella. “Good thinking. All our victims were friends of his dad’s too. Part of the same coin collecting circles.”
Ella thought about the three lost lives, and now one more young life that would never see the outside of a prison cell again. Brad Callis was never given a chance, so he took away other people’s chances in a futile attempt at redemption. He had tried to erase his past through violence and instead ended up erasing his future. A tale as old as t
ime, Ella thought.
“Meet me downstairs when you’re done. I’ll drive you to the airport,” Sheriff Hunter said. He saw himself out.
Byford unplugged the last of his cables, put it in his satchel and threw the strap over his shoulder. “Looks like there’s no doubt about it,” he said. “You’ve caught a killer.”
“We’ve caught a killer,” she corrected. “If you’d have been a second later, I might not be here right now.”
“What else are partners for?” Byford asked. “Some great moves you had back there. I’ve never seen a cop put someone in an ankle lock before.”
“Oh yeah,” Ella laughed, “that’s my secret weapon.”
Byford opened the door and held it for his partner. “Look, I’ll be honest, before I got here, I was worried.”
Ella shouldered her bag, checked the room for anything she’d missed. “You were?”
“Yeah. I’d never been partnered with a rookie before, and I didn’t really like the idea of it. But you’ve taught me a few things. If you want my honest opinion, Mia Ripley is a fool for letting you go.”
There came the embarrassment again. Ella felt her cheeks flush red. “I appreciate it, partner. I was hesitant too, and I judged you a little bit, but you proved me wrong. I can’t wait to get on the next case with you. If you’d be willing, of course.”
Byford held his hand out for a high five. Ella took it.
“Without a doubt. But hopefully we’ll get some rest before that day. Let’s get out of here.”
Ella shut the door behind them and headed out of the precinct with her new partner. Home was only a few hours away, and she couldn’t help but think of the trials and tribulations that awaited her. Mark, her father’s mystery, Tobias’s notes. Suddenly, this successful murder investigation felt like a minor victory.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Tobias Campbell lay on a stretcher outside McLean Hospital in Maine, around two miles from the prison grounds. After collapsing to the floor of his cell and coughing up blood, concerned officers ordered immediate medical assistance. McLean Hospital was the prison’s dedicated medical facility.
Campbell had spent the past thirty-seven minutes spluttering, convulsing, and rolling his pupils into the back of his head. Only the whites of his eyes were visible, like he was some kind of hellish demon.
