Starks' Reality

by Sarah Storme

  She didn’t respond.

  He took a deep breath and blew it out quietly. “Let me take you back to the house.”

  “No.” Avoiding eye contact, she turned and started to march past him.

  He grabbed her arm, but she jerked it free.

  “Heather, where are you going?”

  She spun around and glared at him, her hair dark and plastered to her head, her wet face reflecting distant street lights. “I’m going to look for my father.”

  He heard the determination in her voice and he understood it. Respected it. She had a strength he suspected she didn’t completely understand. Any other woman he knew would have fallen apart under these circumstances. Hell, so would a lot of men.

  Was it possible she was strong enough to handle the shit he lived with? God, had he just pushed away the one woman who might actually be able to love him?

  As she stepped backwards he matched her movements, not daring to reach for her again. “Wait.”

  “For what? For you to finish telling me off?”

  “Look, I—”

  “Don’t bother.” She turned and started away again.

  Jake dashed around her and blocked her path. “Come on, Heather, you can’t go out there alone. I don’t want two of you lost in the marsh.”

  “I don’t really care what you want, Jake.”

  He flinched but didn’t respond, knowing full well he deserved whatever she threw at him.

  “Listen,” he said, “I’m headed out to search, too. At least come with me. You know the area. We have a better chance of finding him together.”

  Still shivering, she glared again, but didn’t try to get around him.

  “Please.”

  Glancing away, she nodded.

  Jake shrugged off his jacket. Although rain had soaked the outside, the inside still felt somewhat dry. He draped it over Heather’s shoulders and followed her back to the Trans Am.

  When they were both inside, he turned the car around and cranked up the heater to help dry their clothes on the short trip north.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To the north end of the bay. I want to check the area where we found the boat.”

  Anger scorched his chest when he passed the road to Tucker’s. He shoved the anger away; this wasn’t the time. Later.

  Finally, with Heather navigating, he found a two-track to the right that dropped off the paved road and ran to the edge of the marsh. Dodging puddles and ruts where possible, he eventually pulled the car up to the old shack he’d seen from Tucker’s porch.

  “Will you at least wait in the car?” he asked.

  “No.”

  Jake nodded. “There’s a flashlight in the glove compartment. I’ve got another one in the trunk.”

  He put on his Kevlar vest for warmth and waited for Heather at the edge of the road. In a moment, she stood behind him, wearing his jacket with the sleeves rolled up to her wrists and shining the flashlight on the ground in front of her. At least they had a break in the rain.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  When he stepped into the marsh grass, he sank in mud up to his knees.

  “Shit.”

  But there was no other path. Shining the flashlight ten feet out, he worked his way slowly to the edge of the open water with mud sucking at his boots. When he stopped, he sank in up to mid-thigh. The pungent scent of rotting vegetation and fish rose around him.

  They stood less than a dozen feet from the spot where Coop’s boat had been lodged in the grass. The Coast Guard had hauled off the boat, but left behind long streaks in the mud.

  Heather grabbed the back of his vest when she stopped beside him and added her light to his. “What do you see?”

  “Nothing. Just the marks where the boat was.”

  “No life vest?” she asked.

  “No. We didn’t see one earlier, either.”

  Heather sighed. “He never went out without it. If it’s not here, he had it on. He couldn’t have drowned. I bought the vest for him. It’s the kind that turns you right-side up.”

  Jake searched the grass again for any sign of debris. “Maybe he didn’t go into the water. Maybe someone took him out of his boat before they punched holes in it.”

  “You think he’s been kidnapped?”

  “I don’t know.” Jake turned and nodded toward the road. “I don’t think there’s anything else to see out here.”

  He followed Heather, grabbing her by the back of the jacket once when she stumbled. When they finally got back to the road, mud covered both of them to their hips.

  Jake removed the vest and tossed it into the trunk. He didn’t need the added warmth anymore; he’d worked up a sweat trudging through the mud.

  Heather opened the passenger’s door, looked down at her muddy legs, and then looked back at him.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

  She climbed in.

  He turned the car around carefully, unwilling to find out what would happen if the tires went off into the marsh. Soon, they’d started back around the bay.

  “Why would someone kidnap Coop?” Heather asked.

  “Maybe they think he saw something, like Tran’s murder.”

  That drew her gaze to him. “Who murdered Tran?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I think I know where to start looking.” He glanced over at her. “I don’t suppose you want to wait at my house?”

  She shook her head.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Where to?” she asked.

  “Radisson’s.”

  “Tanner Radisson’s?”

  “Yep.”

  ~~**~~**~~

  Jake parked the car in the shadows and they both got out. He didn’t speak as he opened the trunk and handed her a vest. “Put this on and don’t take it off.”

  She grabbed the surprisingly heavy garment, and then shrugged off his jacket and draped it across the backseat of the car. As soon as she slipped on the vest and Jake turned her around to fasten Velcro straps, she realized it was a bulletproof vest like the ones the cops on TV wore.

  He returned to the trunk and shoved things into his pockets, and something into his right boot. Then he eased the trunk lid down until it clicked. She followed him around to the driver’s side.

  “I want you to sit behind the wheel,” he said. “If anyone drives up, tap the horn once and drive off. You know where that last cutoff was that goes up into the trees?”

  She nodded.

  “If no one follows you, pull off there, shut off the engine, and wait for me. If they follow you, or if something goes wrong, drive straight to the sheriff’s office. Got it?”

  She nodded again. “What are you going to do?”

  “Break into Radisson’s house.” He turned and ran off toward the gate.

  Heather climbed into the car and pulled the door shut quietly. She rolled down the window and watched.

  Jake stood at the gate for several minutes, doing something with tools from his pockets. Then, looking around, he dashed away, into the shadows along the fence where she could no longer see him.

  Although still tired to the bone, she wasn’t the least bit sleepy. At least they were doing something. That made her feel a little better.

  She caught a glimpse of Jake as he ran across the yard toward the house. Somewhere in the shadows, he must have climbed the fence.

  She couldn’t figure out the man. One minute he was yelling at her to get lost, and the next he was wrapping her in his jacket. He ran hot and cold—more so than anyone she’d ever known. Maybe that was how he survived as a cop. The ability to turn off emotion had to be invaluable when facing danger.

  Something horrible must have happened at Tucker’s after she left. She’d understood that Jake had been upset because he was worried about her, but he crossed the line with both her and Tucker. When he walked into the house just before she left, she saw the regret in his eyes. At that moment, though, she h
adn’t been ready to accept an apology.

  Apparently, neither had Tucker. Had he really slept with Jake’s wife when they were partners? Not only was it a horrible thing to do, it must have been a monstrous secret to keep for so long.

  She couldn’t imagine things would ever be right with Jake again, and her heart ached. He had a frightening side she wasn’t sure she could handle. No one had ever yelled at her with such venom. And even if she could handle it, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  Still, she worried about him as she watched him at the front door.

  ~~**~~**~~

  It didn’t take long to pick the front door lock. Jake tucked the tools into his back pocket, drew his thirty-eight, and eased the door open. He would have felt better with backup, but he didn’t want witnesses to breaking and entering.

  The house looked as empty as the grounds had. Radisson seemed to be with his missing car. Jake continued on cautiously, though, just in case. The only lights in the house came from rooms off the hall.

  Halfway through the living room, he heard the distinctive sound of a revolver cocking from behind him. Jake stopped. He fell to his knees as he whirled around with his thirty-eight in one hand and flashlight in the other. “Freeze!”

  A large figure sat propped in the corner. The pistol he pointed in Jake’s direction fell to the man’s leg and he coughed. “Chief,” he croaked.

  Jake got to his feet and flipped the closest light switch.

  Red held his side with his left hand. Blood oozed between his fingers and pooled around him.

  Jake rushed to the patrolman’s side. “Hold on, I’ll call for an ambulance.”

  He dialed, and checked the room as the phone rang.

  The call went through to Kenny’s house.

  “Hello?” The man had been asleep.

  “Kenny, it’s Starks. Get your ass and an ambulance up to Radisson’s house ASAP. Red has been shot.”

  “Red Daily?”

  “Yes. Hurry.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jake trotted into the kitchen, grabbed a dishtowel, and returned to his patrolman’s side. “Let me see.”

  He pulled Red’s hand away and opened the blood-soaked shirt. The slug had left a small entry wound in Red’s side, and a larger exit wound in back. Still, it must have been a small-caliber gun, probably a twenty-two, or a twenty-five. He folded the towel lengthwise and wrapped it halfway around the man’s middle, and used Red’s belt to hold the towel in place.

  “Okay, press right here,” he said, placing Red’s hand over the entry wound. “The ambulance will be here in a minute.”

  “Chief,” Red said, his voice barely audible, “he’s got Coop.”

  “Radisson?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did he kill Tran?”

  Red nodded.

  “Where did he go?”

  “Don’t know,” Red said. “He’ll kill Coop. Find him.”

  “As soon as the ambulance—”

  “No,” Red said, gasping. “Now.”

  “I can’t leave—”

  “Go. Now.”

  Jake nodded. “All right. You just hang on. I’ll leave the front door open.”

  Then he ran. Radisson’s disappearance left no need for stealth.

  Jake punched the button for the front gate, slipped through as it started to open, and hurried to the car.

  Heather climbed from the driver’s side as he approached. “Jake, what—”

  “Hurry, get in,” he said. “We’ll talk on the way.”

  She ran around the car and hopped in the passenger’s side. Jake started the engine and gunned it as soon as Heather’s door closed. He spun a circle in Radisson’s driveway.

  “Put on your seatbelt,” he said.

  The Trans Am roared down the dirt road to the highway. Tires squealed as they fought for traction on the pavement. When they caught, the car leapt forward. Jake considered putting on his red light, but decided against it. He’d just have to turn it off again when they approached.

  “What happened back there?”

  He glanced at Heather. She held the armrest and the front of her seat with white-knuckled grips, but her voice sounded amazingly calm.

  “Red’s in the house. He’s been shot.”

  “Shot?”

  “He’s conscious. He said Radisson has Coop.”

  “Is Coop okay?”

  “I don’t know, Heather.” This was no time to hide the truth from her; she needed to know what was going on. “Red thinks Radisson plans to kill him.”

  “Oh, God,” she said. “Where are they?”

  “He didn’t know.”

  “Do you?”

  “Maybe.”

  The ambulance flew past them in the opposite direction with its lights flashing and siren screaming. Jake felt a little better knowing paramedics might get to Red in time to save him. Kenny would probably be there quickly, too.

  “Why is this happening?” Heather asked. “Why did Radisson kidnap Coop?”

  “I don’t know all the facts yet, but I think Radisson is involved in the drug ring Evans has been trying to bust. Radisson was probably paying off Red and Boudreaux to make sure Evans and his men were never in the right place at the right time.”

  Jake jumped around a slow-moving truck, tucking the car back into the right lane just as an oncoming pickup sped by, its horn blaring.

  “Tran must have wandered into the middle of an exchange the night he was out looking for oyster smugglers. Coop just happened to be at the dock. He was a convenient target to blame for Tran’s death. Everyone would think he’d had some kind of flashback and then passed out afterwards.”

  “But, why go to the trouble to frame him?”

  “Coop said he saw lights in the bay that night. Maybe they thought he’d seen the murder, or the drug deal. Either way, they wanted to make sure that no one listened to him. And if Coop is found guilty, the investigation will stop.”

  “You think Radisson burned down our house?” she asked.

  Jake shrugged. “Either him or one of the people he’s working with.”

  Heather shuddered.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I will be as soon as I get my father back.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But I still don’t understand why Radisson kidnapped him.”

  “Maybe he wants to find out who Coop has talked to.”

  Jake slowed the car inside the city limits of Port O’Donald. He didn’t want to draw attention from anyone; it would be easier to get in on his own. Coop might not survive a standoff with authorities.

  He turned into the dark marina and eased down the road toward the boathouses. As he’d expected, a light shone from the upstairs of Radisson’s, and the green Mercedes sat out front.

  “Bingo,” he said, quietly.

  “Coop’s here?” Heather unbuckled her belt.

  Jake grabbed her arm as he cut the engine. “Listen to me, Heather. If you don’t do exactly what I say, your father could end up dead. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “First, I’m going to make sure they’re inside. I want you to stay right here. Don’t move, and don’t make a sound. If someone drives by, slide down in the seat so they can’t see you. Under no circumstances—”

  “I’ve got it,” she said. “I’m hiding right here.”

  “Good. Can you reach under the seat and hand me the case?”

  “What case?”

  “It’s cloth.”

  Heather leaned forward, extracted the gun case, and handed it to Jake. He unzipped it and removed the Glock. Checking to make sure the clip was in place and a round was chambered, he tucked the gun into the back of his pants and pulled his jacket on over it. Then he rolled down his window, opened the car door silently, and slipped out.

  He’d parked in the shadows of an oak about thirty yards from the boathouse. The rest of the buildings looked empty, as they had the last time he’d been there. R
adisson’s was the only car.

  He saw nothing in the thirty yards to use for cover. Once he started out, he’d be in the open. Jake took several deep breaths as he looked around, then he sprinted to the boathouse.

  The only sound he heard from inside the building was that of water slapping the walls. There was no longer a lock on the bottom door, so he opened it slowly, checking through the crack before continuing. The light over the boats was on, but he didn’t see anyone around. Both boats rocked quietly, creaking against their moorings.

  A steep stairway led up from the inside. Judging by the size of the building, it had to open into a main room. There might be nothing to duck behind at the top.

  He eased the door shut again and walked slowly around the outside of the building. Two upstairs windows faced south. The one closest to the water was small and opaque, probably a bathroom window.

  He stepped out into the water and pulled himself along the edge of the building until he could see around the corner where a balcony hung above the open boathouse back that matched the one in front, complete with sliding glass door.

  Jake then crossed the front of the building and checked the north side. In the three feet of room between Radisson’s boathouse and the one next to it, he saw no windows.

  After looking around, he started back toward the car, and was still twenty feet away when he spotted the man approaching. Jake stopped.

  As soon as he recognized the tall man with grey hair, he continued forward. He shook the deputy’s hand.

  “Sagin. Damn, I’m glad you’re here,” Jake whispered. “Did my office call you?”

  “No,” Sagin said. “I was passing by and saw you. What’s up?”

  Jake looked back at the building. “Radisson was involved in Tran’s murder, and now he has Coop. I think they’re upstairs, but I’m not sure how to get up there without being seen.”

  “You’re right about Radisson,” Sagin said, also whispering. “But you’ve missed one little detail.”

  “What?” Jake turned toward the man and found a three-fifty-seven pointed at his gut.

  “Hand over your weapon,” Sagin said.

  “You’re with him?”

  Sagin shrugged. “Boudreaux was too stupid to keep Evans off the trail by himself. Now, come on, hand it over. I don’t want to shoot you, but I will.”

  Jake reached into his shirt.