by L T Ryan
“Why’d they pick you to do it? Why would a group of trained mercenaries ask for your help?”
Cole was quiet. His crazed panic giving way to sadness. His voice cracked. “Because I could get her alone and away from her kids without drawing any suspicion.”
Hatch felt the warmth burning her cheeks. “Just like you did with me?”
His silence was answer enough.
Movement caught her attention. Jake was mouthing something. It took her a second to realize what he was asking. Feign? He asked slowly. Hatch gave a barely imperceptible nod. Not that Cole would have noticed a more overt gesture. His eyes watered and his once ragged breath transitioned to long, drawn out sighs. Madness was quickly giving way to utter despair.
Hatch focused her aim, waiting for the opportunity.
Jake stomped hard on the man’s foot. His bare foot crashing against Cole’s shoe did little in the way of pain, but it served its simple purpose. A feigning blow. One that drew Cole’s attention, lowering his head. At the same time Jake swung up with his arm. The plaster encased forearm gave the blow added weight as it struck the gunman’s nose.
Cole’s head snapped back. His body rose, an involuntary reaction to the strike. It wasn’t much of a window of opportunity. But Hatch didn’t need more than a crack.
The gunshot was deafening. The silence following somehow seemed louder. Jake lay atop Cole. Both unmoving. Daphne darted toward Hatch’s mother. Hatch closed the distance as Jake rolled away. Her heart resumed its cadence as she evaluated the deadly accuracy of her shot.
The single entrance wound to Cole’s forehead bisected the gap between his eyebrows. Hatch knew he was dead but kicked the gun out of his hand for good measure.
She felt a tug on the back of her jacket, snapping her out of her momentary tunnel vision. Hatch turned and saw Daphne looking up at her. The girl’s face was twisted in anguish and she opened her arms wide.
Hatch stuffed the snub-nosed .38 into the back of her waistband as she took a knee, the warmth of the steel reminding her of its recent use. Hatch swallowed up the little girl in her arms. She felt Daphne’s little ribcage vibrate her emotional release.
Jake came from the side, joining in. Hatch inhaled this moment. The embrace of her sister’s children, washing away the violence she’d just committed. An absolution of sorts. And one she’d desperately needed.
“You really don’t need to stay. We’re fine now.”
Savage folded his arms in protest. “I’d just feel a whole lot better if I waited here with you until the cavalry arrives in a few hours.”
“Nobody knows we’re here. Well, nobody except you and the motel clerk. And he doesn’t even know our real names.”
“I’m not caving. I’ll stay in my squad car and keep an eye out.”
“Suit yourself. But if you’re going to stand guard, it might be more comfortable in here.” Hatch opened the door to her motel room.
The kids were already asleep in the room next door with her mother. Littleton had kept watch while Savage finished up filling in the state police on the third, and hopefully last, crime scene of the night. The house was locked down by the crime scene techs and it wouldn’t be cleared for a few hours. The state was bringing in a hazardous waste cleanup crew to remove the blood before the children returned.
“I guess it’d be warmer than sitting in the Suburban all night.”
Hatch turned and entered the room. Savage followed.
Hatch removed the revolver from the small of her back and placed it on the nightstand between the two beds. Savage arranged his duty weapon in a similar fashion. Kicking off their shoes, neither bothered to undress before taking their respective beds.
“You know my bed’s probably more comfortable if you want to try over here.” Savage chuckled at his own joke.
Hatch didn’t speak. She pulled off the covers and crossed the two-foot gap to the other queen bed where Savage lay. He slid over and patted the bed.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Hatch said. “You know that, right?”
“Never crossed my mind. Just figured it’d be easier to watch over you if you were close by.”
Hatch rolled her eyes and slid into bed next to him. She laid her head against his shoulder. At her height, few men fit naturally next to her. Savage proved to be a rare exception.
“You know. I could really use you around here. Plus, I’ve just had a full-time position come open.”
She folded her hands over her stomach and shook her head. “I’m gone once the dust settles on this.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way. You could have a chance at starting over here.”
Hatch sighed. “I’ve got unfinished business elsewhere.”
Savage didn’t argue the point any further.
Before drifting off, she wondered to herself if she could get used to this. Hatch fell asleep with the smell of licorice enveloping her.
27
For a month straight Hawk’s Landing was inundated with law enforcement agents from just about every three-letter government agency in the country. The FBI led the charge on Chisolm and his company. The state police made quick work of their turnaround on the two shooting incidents involving Hatch. Both were ruled justified and because of her temporary status as a sheriff’s deputy, were also indemnified from any civil suit should one arise. Regardless of the outcome, the past several weeks had proved draining.
Cole’s DNA had been found on the needle used to kill her sister. The substance he claimed was supposedly a sleeping aid turned out to be something the lab referred to as Gray Death, an amalgamation of heroin, fentanyl, and carfentanil. The dosage was fatal. The confirmation added little beyond what she already knew, but gave Hatch a finality in feeling her sister’s death was avenged.
Hatch sat in the kitchen waiting for the rumble of Savage’s Suburban to announce his arrival. She played with the tin star he’d given her, spinning it on the wooden table. The aromatic smell of her mother’s coffee filled the air and Hatch took a sip.
It was early, but she heard the pitter-patter of little feet. Ever since that night with Cole, they slept less and got up early. Hatch made sure she gave each a big hug and kiss before leaving every day. The routine was starting to become normal, and that scared Hatch more than the people who’d tried to kill her.
The sound of the heavy Chevy’s tires crushing their way up the dirt driveway caused Hatch to stand. Daphne and Jake entered the room, their bodies hurtling toward her.
As they crashed into her, Hatch absorbed their impacts with a broad smile. “You know I wouldn’t head off without saying goodbye.”
“Are you getting any bad guys today?” Jake’s personality was different. No longer was he consumed by the grief of his mother’s death. His heroics had brought out a new strength. And in the eyes of his little sister, he was now her protector.
“Just one more to go.”
“And then what?” Daphne’s eyes told her she already knew the answer to the question.
“We’ll see.”
Hatch ignored her mother’s stare from the kitchen. She was well aware of her opinion, it having been voiced many times in the weeks since the shooting of Cole Jensen.
“Gotta go. I’ll be back later.”
Hatch kissed each child upon the head and then pried herself free. She exited as flurries began to swirl. The cold caressed her skin as she clipped the badge to her belt.
Hatch walked to the waiting vehicle. She entered and handed Savage a travel mug of her mother’s coffee. The man seemed to be as addicted to it as he was the black licorice in his jacket pocket.
Savage accepted the mug. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I didn’t want you getting the DTs today. Big day.”
“Big day.”
“Not every day you get to arrest a sheriff.”
Tapping his badge, Savage grinned. “Former sheriff.”
The warrant being served today was federal, and the FBI was actually executing it, but
Savage and Hatch had requested to accompany the arresting team. All of the others who could be directly linked to any wrongdoing had been rounded up. Simon Chisolm was found at a bus station trying to take a Greyhound to Denver. Hatch participated in each related arrest, but former Sheriff Larry Jeffries was of special interest.
They didn’t expect a shootout but, based on the details of the FBI’s investigation into the man, it was assumed he was prepared for this day. Well, as prepared as anybody could be. But Jeffries was a lawman, crooked or not, and prison for cops held little promise. They were prepared for the worst-case scenario and went in a caravan of cars led by a small SWAT contingent out of the FBI’s Denver field office.
Savage’s was the last car in the procession and followed closely as they made their way up the long, ornate driveway leading to the retired sheriff’s mansion.
The tactical element formed a four-man diamond and began their approach as Savage stopped his SUV. Hatch could see Jeffries sitting on the wrap-around front porch, smoking a cigarette.
As Hatch exited, she could hear the clear, calm commands of the tactical unit. It didn’t look as though the former sheriff was planning a last stand. He complied, raising his hands into the air. The cigarette dangled from his mouth. The smoke obscured his face.
Moments later, Jeffries was in custody. Savage looked at Hatch and shrugged. “That was pretty anticlimactic.”
“I’ve just got one question for him.”
Hatch began walking toward the handcuffed man being led by two operators in full tactical gear. Their AR-15s were slung to the side and each had a controlled grip under the older prisoner’s elbows.
She waited as Jeffries was placed on the backseat of the transport vehicle. Secured, the two men stood back. Hatch put her hand on the door and gave them a pleasant smile. “Just got a quick question for him and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
The old man looked up at her inquisitively.
Hatch pulled out a report from the old file she’d located in the basement. “Why’d you dump the case?”
He squinted to read the paperwork she dangled in front of him. “I’ll need my readers if I’m going to be able to see whatever you’re holding. These eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
“Paul Hatch. Killed in ’92. You were the investigator.”
His eyes widened. “Why are you looking at a hunting accident from twenty-plus years ago?”
“Because he was my father.”
Jeffries looked away. He began shaking his head slowly from side to side, each movement more pronounced than its predecessor. “I knew there’d come a day. For whatever it’s worth, your father was a great man. What he did rescuing that family was one of the most amazing stories of heroism I’ve ever heard.”
“Somebody bribed you. I need to know who.” Hatch was suddenly leaning into the car, her face inches from his.
“I did it to protect you. To protect your family.”
Hatch was confused. Her intensity shifted, and she backed off. “Protect us? By covering up the truth?”
“I’m not the one who can point you in the direction you’re looking to go.”
“Then tell me who can.”
Jeffries cantered his head up. “Your mother.”
Hatch’s legs almost buckled under the weight of the man’s words. She pushed back from the sedan, shutting the door as she righted herself.
She began walking back toward the Suburban. The loosely tucked police report fluttering under her arm. Savage hustled to keep up with her long strides.
“What was that all about?”
Hatch handed the file to Savage. “It’s what I took that day in the basement. The case file documenting my father’s death. Your predecessor wrote the report years back when he was on patrol. I was hoping he’d be able to tell me the truth.”
“From the look on your face, I take it he didn’t.”
“No, but he told me where to look.”
They got in the oversized SUV and Savage fired up the engine. “Where to?”
“Home.”
Her mother was in the kitchen, cleaning up breakfast. She startled at the sight of Hatch. “Rachel! You scared me half to death. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Hatch worked to compose the words.
“You’re back so soon. Did everything go okay for you this morning?”
“Twenty-one years you’ve lied to me.”
“I’m sorry. What are you talking about now?”
“I spoke with Larry Jeffries today. That’s who we arrested this morning. But I didn’t accompany the arrest team because of this case. I went because he was the deputy who investigated Dad’s death.”
Her mother dropped a dish. It crashed loudly on the floor, sending shards of porcelain out in all directions. “All these years. Do you know what finding his body in the woods did to me that day? Do you know the course it sent my life on?”
“I’m sor—”
“Save your sorry for somebody else. What I want now is answers.”
“Your dad came out here to Colorado after Vietnam to get away from everything war puts on its soldiers. You know that part of it. What you don’t know is what he did after leaving the war before he settled here.” Tears began to stream down her face. “He worked for a private contractor, basically a mercenary group. He drifted after the war and told me it was all he really knew. But he eventually gave it up and came here to Hawk’s Landing with the hope of starting a new life.”
“Why was he killed?”
“Because the people he worked for didn’t want to let him go. Because he breached a contract. He was a liability to them.”
“Why did it take them so long to find him? Over twelve years and suddenly they come for him.”
“He stayed off their radar. That was until he made national news rescuing that family lost in the woods. Your father was dead a week later.”
Hatch spoke through gritted teeth. “Who did it?”
Her mother wiped at her eyes. With each tear she cleared, another took its place. “I don’t know.”
“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”
“Wait here a minute.”
Her mother disappeared from the kitchen. Hatch heard her upstairs. A few minutes later, she returned carrying a small shoebox.
“What’s this?”
“Mostly letters from your father.” The waterworks had slowed. “He was quite a wordsmith, if you’d believe it.”
“I’m not looking to walk down memory lane.”
“I know.” Her mother thumbed through the small pile, pulling out a weathered envelope. “Here.”
Hatch looked at it. There was a stamped emblem with an address on the return section. Aside from that, there were no other markings. “What’s this?”
“A few weeks after your father died, I received this. In it was ten-thousand dollars in cash and a note.”
“What did it say?”
“Take care of your children.”
Hatch exhaled slowly and looked at her mother. The woman whom she had battled with for most of her adolescence had protected her the only way she knew how. Strength came in different ways. And her mother’s strength had been to silently shoulder the secret of her husband’s death to protect the children they both loved.
Hatch stepped closer, porcelain crunching under her boots, and she pulled her mother in close. She held their embrace as her mother’s body trembled.
“What are you going to do now?” Her mother asked as they separated.
“I’m going to set things right.”
“How do you plan to do that?”
Hatch looked down at the address on the envelope before folding it and stuffing it into her back pocket. “I’ll start there. In Las Cruces.”
“You might not find the answers you’re looking for.”
“I’m not looking for answers. It’s vengeance I’m after.”
28
Hatch sat across from Savage in his small office with th
e desk separating them. He fidgeted with a stack of papers. “Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure about anything in my life.”
Savage looked hurt by the comment but cocked his head and smiled weakly.
“I’ve got to close some things out, or I’ll never be able to settle.”
“Make me a promise. If you do figure it all out, you’ll think hard about coming back here and making a life for yourself?”
“Fair enough. You really think I’ll ever find normal?”
“Well, you’ve been everywhere and nowhere, as you say. Maybe, Hawk’s Landing is as normal a place as you and I will ever find.”
Hatch smiled. She unclipped the badge from her waist and slid the metal piece across the desk. Savage looked down at it but refused to pick it up.
“You’ve got a job with this office anytime you want.”
“Hopefully, someday I can take you up on it.”
“It’s an offer that never expires.”
Hatch walked out of the sheriff’s office. The landscape was now painted white. The snow covering would only be temporary. That’s the thing with anything covered up: It’s only a matter of time until the truth rises to the surface.
The powder crunched underfoot as she walked away.
She’d be leaving Hawk’s Landing soon, but she couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever return.
Read on for a sneak peak at Downburst (Rachel Hatch book 2), or pre-order your copy now:
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Downburst
Rachel Hatch Book Two
by L.T. Ryan & Brian Shea
Copyright © 2019 by L.T. Ryan, Liquid Mind Media, LLC, & Brian Christopher Shea. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.
