She listened to Chief Bates describing the anonymous call. The DA compared his testimony to the transcript from the hotline operator. Jo let her attention slip when, out of nowhere, a catastrophic impact struck the courthouse. She barely had time to stiffen when the wall behind her imploded in a hail of exploding brick and flying dust.
Nate toppled forward under a curtain of debris. Beams and a torn steel reinforcing bar landed across his back and peppered the crowd in the rear benches. Jo whipped around, grasping for her sidearm, but she sprang out of the way when a huge truck hurtled through the wreckage and plowed into the courtroom.
She caught a fleeting glimpse of a welded iron grate across the vehicle's front grille. It crashed into the stack of fallen rubble, bounced on its tires, and came down half over the top. The engine shrieked to a deafening pitch, and the truck launched straight up the pile.
It gained the top with its motor still jammed to the maximum. It vaulted on its rear wheels and hung suspended in mid-air. Jo got a clear view of its undercarriage before it smashed down the other side and roared into the next seats.
People lunged away, screaming as the truck shattered benches and skidded through the gallery. Before the truck even stopped moving, Jo recovered from her shock. She thought too long and too hard about what the Dark Avenger would do to attack the courthouse. This was it.
She charged the truck drawing her weapon. Blake and Kat raced forward from the opposite side, and they closed on the driver's compartment. The truck plowed through the Prosecution desk and collided with the empty witness stand before it stopped.
Jo bolted for the driver's window and planted her foot on the step. She seized the rearview mirror to steady herself and jammed her weapon through the open window. "Freeze! Don't....."
The words died on her lips. The driver's seat was empty. A cinderblock weighed down the accelerator pedal, and a length of rope tied the wheel into position. The motor still howled in agony.
Over the din, clunks of falling plaster disturbed the deadly stillness. In slow motion, Jo glanced around. Dozens of eyes stared at her in mute shock. Nate clambered out from under the debris. Other than that, no one moved.
No, someone was moving, and it wasn't who she expected. One of the bailiffs marched on an unwavering course toward the Defense table. All this time, she expected Mackenzie to show up in a suit like the rest of the crowd or else for the Dark Avenger to leap out in his spandex catsuit.
She almost didn't register what was happening until the bailiff, dressed in his prosaic brown uniform, barged across the courtroom. His right hand flew to his sidearm and his left to his face.
In one movement, he ripped his gun from its holster. With his other hand, he tore off the fake mustache covering his upper lip. It was Ryder Mackenzie as big as life. He strode to the Defense table leveling his gun at Kingston.
Jo swung her weapon up. A broken roar split from her throat. "No!" Julian Kingston saw the scene playing out from a few feet away. He rocketed over the benches bellowing at the top of his lungs. "Dad!"
The gun went off, and Julian tackled Mackenzie. They fell, and a cloud of gun smoke drifted over the three men. Jo charged them, but when the smoke cleared, Gabriel Kingston lay on his back with his eyes closed. A peaceful smile graced his lips, and a trickle of blood dribbled from the bullet hole above his eyebrow.
She stared down at him, but she felt absolutely nothing. No words, no emotions came to her. Was she dead, too? Was this really the end? None of this seemed real.
Julian reared off Mackenzie and wound back his fist. "You son of a bitch! I'll kill you for this!"
Blake caught his arm in mid-swing and wrenched him off the fallen man. He muscled Julian to his feet still kicking and cursing. "Get out of here, man!" Blake snapped. "Come on. Move it."
He shoved Julian away, but Jo stood frozen out of time. Gabriel Kingston couldn't be dead. Her brain refused to accept it.
Mackenzie picked himself up and brushed the dust off his bailiff uniform. His eyes sparkled with eerie understanding. He rotated around and fixed that burning gaze on Jo as though he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling right now.
He inclined his head as though he wanted to say something, but at that moment, Chief Bates grabbed him from behind. He jerked Mackenzie's arms behind his back. "You're under arrest for murder in the first degree. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights that I have just explained to you?"
Mackenzie didn't answer. His unbending gaze never wavered from Jo's face. In that moment, she found herself looking at the Dark Avenger, the man who flew to her rescue so many times, the man she came to think of as another arm of the Police Department.
The next instant, Chief Bates yanked him away. He marched Mackenzie toward the door through which Gabriel Kingston just entered, heading back to the cell Gabriel Kingston just left.
Jo stared after them, too stunned to think. Nate sauntered up next to her and touched her shoulder. "You okay, sweetheart?"
She couldn't answer. She only blinked at that door. The cosmic unity of the whole unfolding case left her speechless.
Nate puffed out his breath and shook his head, following her gaze. "That's the end of the Dark Avenger."
The End
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About the Author
Willow Morgan, born and raised in Melbourne, Australia. A city so alive, with its many cultures, cafes and bars. Enjoys spending time with family, taking road trips, knitting and reading.
From young, Willow would constantly scribble story scenarios but it wasn’t until year 9 in secondary college that she became hooked on the combination of romance, suspense and mystery stories after her english teacher, in an attempt to get his students to read more, dropped a massive box of Mills & Boons and Harlequin books on the desk that he had acquired from his wife.
From there ,Willow has been writing for many years and has only recently been inspired by family to publish her books.
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