by Brandon Enns
"Right, of course."
The tip of his gun rotated in his lap. CLAP, CLAP. Muffled shots from the silenced gun landed directly into Rollins' chest as he staggered back to the wall and slid down slowly, leaving a smeared blood print.
"That'll be all, Commissioner."
***
Jennifer's father, Gregory Wagner, sat in his den on a Sunday with his black coffee and newspaper. With a page open, he read an article about the heroism that young Corporal Jennifer Allen displayed in the highest form of detection and bravery, saving the lives of Steven Adams, Kyle Morrow, and possibly more that were yet to come.
Gregory walked out of his den and into his kitchen. His new home was sublime. With retirement in six months and a fat pension to follow, he was set to begin his career as a consultant. Essentially, he'd be there to aid others, who were of importance, get out of a pinch. He'd provide a service with countless resources at his fingertips for a pretty penny. Given that he could judge each case based on its level of morality, picking and choosing was simple. After years of service, he knew that in order to get things done, one had to go outside the law. And often times, the law didn't help make a situation right. It wouldn't have helped Tanner Pearson. It would have
ruined his life, along with the others. Over what? A simple boy that lost control of his own actions?
It just so happened that a freak of nature came along and put a wrinkle in things. Execution wasn’t always as clean as it should be.
With Jennifer so close to it, taking out Baker would have brought her closer to the truth, one that she could not discover, not to mention the mess of investigations that likely would have followed. It would have brought on the search for a bigger story, one with his daughter at the helm.
The lives that were lost...at first, he had hoped she'd taken him out sooner, but afterward, the government's reaction to The Satanist…The funding coming their way was almost ridiculous, their knee-jerk reaction making him salivate. Maybe retirement wouldn't be as simple if they offered him a special task force. Both were possible. They could co-exist. Options of power, wealth and grandeur seemed limitless.
He spread his bagel with cream cheese. The sun was coming in through his glass patio doors. Days were getting longer. Perhaps not the case for that fool Brian Peters. Yes, he was out on his ass now, but that didn't provide the assurance Greg required.
Had he told Jennifer after their big shootout that her father called the shots? Orchestrated the entire cover-up? Ordered the manipulation of Baker's testimony all those years ago. Would he eventually?
Brian had to go. Was Jennifer going to stop with this once Brian was erased? A suicide would make sense and could certainly be accepted as the truth by the RCMP and general public. The man was a failure through the eyes of anyone who read the news.
Gregory leafed through a catalog of sailboats as he walked through his door to the deck.
He squinted and saw Earl Caron approaching.
"Beautiful day, Earl. Do you come with beautiful news?"
He stepped up onto his deck, smiled uncomfortably, and sighed.
"Stubborn child," said Greg.
"She's not short on conviction. Hell of a kid."
"What'd she say?"
"She's not gonna take the job in Saskatoon. I tried. I really did."
"What is she gonna do then?"
"You won't like it."
"Oh, what now?"
"She put in for a transfer to BC. She's moving whether it gets accepted or not."
Gregory laughed bitterly. "Foolish. Just plain foolish."
"There was no swaying her."
"You think she'll talk?"
"About Peters? No. I don't. But one can never be sure."
"Well, you were sure confident that she wasn't gonna blab in front of the board. Maybe she won't ever."
"I think you need to give your daughter a little credit. She's loyal. That and she doesn't trust a goddamn thing within the RCMP. She won't say a word, that is until she finds the truth and evidence to back it up herself."
"You expect she will keep sniffing?"
"Wouldn't be surprised."
"There's no paper trail."
"There's always a trail, Greg."
Gregory shook his head and bit his bagel. "Not good, not
good."
"Can I ask you something?"
"I think you'll ask it anyway."
"How could you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Leave your kid in that ring of fire like that. She could've been killed."
"He wasn't gonna kill her."
"How could you be certain?"
Gregory leaned over the railing and admired his massive backyard swimming pool and hot tub. "I think I'll take a hot dip. I'd ask you to join, but I'll tell you to fuck off instead," he smirked.
Earl's face remained serious. "What'd you decide on Peters?"
"My decision will occur with jets on my back. I'll call you."
Earl nodded grimly and left.
Gregory cursed under his breath.
***
Jennifer and Jacey sat in her car, parked in the driveway of Eli Baker's former home. Jennifer gazed at the open field where so many unimaginable events had taken place. It all looked the same still.
The story had gone viral. She was a hero and Brian was not. Someone had to take the fall, and it was obvious it would be him.
Brian's resignation must have hit him hard, but even if it hadn't been forced, she figured he would have left anyway, unable to deal with the guilt and shame. As awful as his actions were, he still had visited Jennifer in the hospital.
Jennifer had become a celebrity. So, she'd smile, shake
hands, share awkward hugs, all the while hating herself for not stopping him earlier. She thought about the year she spent away from the case. She could have been working then. She could have stopped him before he started up again.
Everywhere Jennifer looked, there were titles being thrown her way: leader, role model, winter soldier, protector, prairie soldier, Artemis (Goddess of the wilderness). It was all suffocating, bringing her back to that field, to that basement every single time it was mentioned. And when she was all alone, she'd go there. Quality sleep hadn’t been an option since that night and she had to face it.
"Why are we here, Jen?"
Jennifer couldn't take her eyes off the open field.
"Do you want me to come in with you?"
"No. I'll be all right. Just stay here."
"You sure?"
Finally, she looked over at her girlfriend and squeezed her arm reassuringly. "Yeah."
Jennifer got out of her car and ambled around the house to the elevator. For a split second, she swore she saw a trail of blood, but then it was gone. She stepped into the elevator. The gears turned and she was sent down into the cold pit. When she stepped out, she walked slowly to the first corner.
There was no one there.
The RCMP had placed a light near the old oven. She walked over and turned it on. Nothing had changed. Just cement and space.
Jennifer closed her eyes and flashed through all of her memories from that night; the fight in the dungeon, Steven, the gunshot, the coyote, the blood, the pain, the cold, the night, his eyes, Brian, knife to her throat, the gun blast, the
way he looked at her, the way she felt as he left...it was all clear. Her breath rose in the air.
Back in the car, she didn't say a word. Jacey broke the tension before Jennifer put the car in reverse. "You want to talk about it?"
"No, I'm pretty tired."
"Okay."
"You wanna grab a bite? Could do take-home."
"No, I'm not hungry. Let's just get some sleep. Early flight tomorrow."
Jacey smiled and kissed her cheek. "I can't wait to see the mountains."
Jennifer turned to her. "You'll love them."
She stared into the open field.
Standing over the coyote, soaked in blood. She couldn't shake the thought.
It thrilled her.
THE END
<<<<>>>>
Acknowledgments
“I gotta thank momma for the cookin’, daddy for the whoopin’, the devil for the trouble that I get into. I’ve got to give credit where credit is due. I thank the bank for the money, thank God for you-my reader.”
-Sawyer Brown, then me at the end there.
About the Author
Brandon Enns is a novelist and award-winning screenwriter. Brandon’s stories are suspenseful thrillers, mysteries, and dramas which often feature a gritty and damaged protagonist.
Novel or film, he simply enjoys a good story and feels inclined to write some of his own. When he isn’t writing, he is likely playing or watching sports. He is strongly considering competing in ping-pong at the national level.
Brandon currently lives in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.
Visit www.brandonenns.com for more information on Brandon, his upcoming novels, and more importantly, prize giveaways.
Upcoming Novels
Copperhead Road
Islanders
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