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The Deputy's Baby

Page 17

by Tyler Anne Snell


  The pit of Cassie’s stomach fell to the floor. “So Kristen is with Paula and Calvin? Is Henry, too?”

  An emotion crossed Michael’s face. She couldn’t tell what it was. Regardless, it scared her.

  “Yeah, Calvin and his band of merry men took them both, and as far as I know they’re still alive. But...” He glanced at the window. “When I was leaving with you, he spotted my car. I knew if I tried to run he’d send someone after us. So I came back to where we’ve been hiding out. Luckily he was preoccupied or else he might have noticed I waited until they were out of sight before bringing you in.”

  Cassie didn’t understand. “So you kidnapped me to keep me from getting kidnapped, or worse, but then brought me to the place I was originally going to be taken to if I had been kidnapped?”

  Michael ran his hand through his red hair, frustration evident. “Nobody’s perfect, Miss Gates.”

  * * *

  HENRY HIT THE floor hard. Blood ran down his arm and shirt, hitting the wood next to him. Dust kicked up against his face. He groaned.

  “Fun fact, those are your cuffs.” Calvin laughed. “The ones, I’d like to point out, that I took off you probably a few feet from here. Give or take.”

  Henry rolled onto his side and then his back. He recognized the room. Though the last time he’d been in it he had been staring at the face of a beautiful woman. Now he was staring at the face of a sick man.

  He only hoped that wherever Cassie had hidden, she was safe.

  “Where did you take Kristen?” he asked, barely able to form words around his anger. She’d been put in the same car as him and used as a way to keep Henry from fighting. Once they’d entered the old neighborhood of Westbridge and parked outside the same house he and Cassie had taken refuge in the day before, Paula had taken Kristen in a different direction. Henry had bucked around then and earned quite the proficient beating from one of the seemingly countless lackeys Calvin had roped in. He’d also earned the being handcuffed at his back. “What are you going to do with her?”

  Calvin leaned against the wall. He nodded for the man who had brought Henry in to leave. He didn’t speak until the door closed in the next room over.

  “She’s fine for now.” He was wearing the same grin he’d had on since he’d ordered Henry into the car. “But you know the drill. You do anything crazy and I go get her and make sure she’s not fine.”

  Henry sat up, using the wall closest to him for support. The bullet had gone through his arm, but it didn’t detract from the pain. Not that he had room to complain. He needed to find a way to get to Kristen so they could escape. Cassie wouldn’t forgive him otherwise. And neither would he forgive himself if anything happened to her. Especially at Calvin’s hands.

  “I don’t understand,” he decided on proclaiming. He needed to buy time to gather back some of his strength. What better way than to try to get some answers? “I saw you get shot in that barn and now you’re back terrorizing some small Alabama town with a whole crew of criminals? Why?”

  Calvin laughed again. This time Henry heard the bitterness in it.

  “You know, the first time we met I thought we had the potential to be a great duo. Heck, I knew it. When we were busting up fights on calls, chasing down idiots who thought they could get away, or just trying to find the lie some hapless druggie would try to pass off on us, we just had the right groove going. And then bam! we started going undercover.” He clapped his hands together. “What do you know? We were just as good at being bad guys as we were at being good guys!”

  “It was an act,” Henry said defensively, shame and anger coursing through him. “It was a job!”

  Calvin’s face contorted. He slammed his fist against the wall. The window next to him shook.

  “It was a goal,” he yelled. “One that I realized we could achieve!” He spread his hands out wide. “Instead of spending every day watching as men and women with a whole lot less intelligence than us prosper from doing a whole lot less than we did, I saw an end-game. I didn’t need to pretend I wanted it, and that only made it easier to get.”

  Henry felt like he was going to be sick. How had he missed the change in Calvin?

  How had he not known?

  “So, what? You’re just going to be a crime show’s cliché?” Henry asked. “A cop who went undercover and then blurred the line between right and wrong?”

  Calvin laughed with no smile. His mood swings were throwing off Henry’s ever-changing opinion of the man. Maybe he wasn’t stable anymore. Maybe he was so far gone that trying to make sense of him was impossible.

  “See, Henry, that’s you to a tee,” he said. “You sit there and think a thousand thoughts but won’t say what you really think until you’re pushed. That’s what made you so great at going undercover. You could sit in silence trying to figure out your next move and everyone just thought it was a part of some dumb criminal. Right now I bet you’re trying to figure out why I am the way I am. What happened? What signs did you miss when it came to my descent into—” he motioned to himself with a wave of his hands “—whatever it is I am now?”

  Calvin crossed the room and stopped just short of Henry’s boots. He bent over and jabbed his finger in the air, level with his eyes.

  “I want you to listen, and I want you to listen good,” he continued venomously. “This had nothing to do with what you did and didn’t do. This is about me. See, there was never any blurring of lines. Never just one assignment that sent me over the edge. Henry, there was never even an edge to begin with. Do you want to know why?”

  Henry kept his mouth shut. His fists were balled against the floor. The blood from his gunshot turned cold against his skin.

  Calvin’s face was red. He spit as he spoke. “I was always on the ground knowing exactly what it was that I wanted out of life. I wanted to be bad. It just took me a while to figure it out.”

  “Then why come here? Why come after me? You could have stayed off the radar. No one suspected you made it out of that barn. Definitely not me.”

  Calvin answered him with another question. “Do you remember why Arnold earned law enforcement’s attention in the first place?”

  Henry knew this answer. “He gained a lot of power really quickly.”

  Calvin snapped his fingers together. “Exactly! And remember how he did that?” This time he wasn’t looking for an answer. “Arnold Richland inspired loyalty among almost everyone who worked for him through mass example. He promised power and money and delivered on both so quickly that, yeah, it brought him to our attention, but it also got him a small army. One that is majorly still out there.”

  Henry ground his teeth. “No thanks to you, I assume.”

  Calvin smirked again. “I wondered if you’d figure out it was me who tipped the Richlands off that night. Though, admittedly, I’d been aligned with them for a few months by that point. It took a lot of convincing to keep Arnold from killing you.”

  Henry was seeing red.

  “Then why give me a show of you being killed if you were just going to leave me in the barn to die?” he yelled.

  Calvin was unperturbed by the change in volume.

  “Arnold told me about the beginnings of his rise to power one night,” he continued. “Apparently a few of his first followers questioned just how far he was willing to go to see their group succeed. Especially when it came to his little brother, Reggie. Do you remember him?”

  Henry didn’t answer, but Calvin did. He continued, once again unperturbed by his audience’s anger. “He was a preacher. Nice, humble and the direct opposite of what Arnold wanted to be. The yin to his yang. That’s how he knew what needed to be done. He had to kill Reggie to prove himself.”

  Henry could have been sick.

  “Is that what I am?” he asked. “I’m your opposite so you have to kill me to make some kind of twisted point?”

  Calvin s
imply nodded. “When you were trapped in that burning building, I thought, ‘Well, hey, that’s easy.’ But then I found out you were alive. And not only that, but you were trying to make a new home for yourself in Alabama.” He shrugged. “What better place to start my own rise to power? There was definitely no short supply of anger and resentment when it came to the sheriff’s department. It made it almost too easy to find recruits. All I had to do was promise them revenge. Heck, I even sweetened the pot by convincing them that if they waited, played the parts I gave them, I’d give them a plan that ensured not only revenge but suffering, too.”

  “It didn’t work,” Henry pointed out. “Not on the scale I’m sure you promised, at least.”

  Calvin shrugged, the very picture of indifference. “What I promised them was the chance to get what they wanted. If they failed in following through, that’s on them. All they wanted from me was the tools to attempt it. Not my fault that the idiot Darrel decided to take out his rage on the sheriff before it was time. Some minds are too small to see the big picture.”

  “And what now? Waiting for another storm?”

  Calvin shook his head. “My demonstration has already gained me interest. Now your death will gain me loyalty.”

  Henry’s muscles started to tense. His mind hadn’t stopped whirling. He thought of Cassie, of his son, of Kristen, Maggie, Matt, Caleb and Alyssa. He thought of everyone else he’d met since coming to Riker County. He thought of Hawk, a man he’d fought beside, and Suzy, a woman who had earned his burden by proximity alone. He thought of Billy and his family. He even thought of Gary, the man at the bar who had been too drunk to see just how amazing the blonde asking him to buy her a drink was.

  But most of all, he thought of Calvin Fitzgerald.

  A man who had been a part of his life for years.

  He had been hilarious, smart, ridiculous, kind when it counted, thoughtful when it was called for, and an absolute lightweight when it came to tequila.

  He’d been the best friend Henry had ever had.

  And as far as Henry was concerned, Calvin Fitzgerald had never come out of that barn in Tennessee.

  Instead of feeling another wave of mourning that had knocked him on his ass after the fire, Henry felt something else spreading throughout him.

  “You say I never really knew you, and that may be true,” he breathed.

  It wasn’t a statement. It wasn’t a speech. It didn’t even feel like words. He was talking, but everything was shifting in each sound. Slowly, Henry tucked his legs and stood. The Calvin in front of him, a man built on ego and a broken moral compass, gave him the room to do it.

  He hadn’t realized it yet.

  For all his skill and experience, Calvin Fitzgerald hadn’t seen the signs.

  He didn’t know he’d already lost.

  “Memory Lane is a two-way street,” Henry said. All pain and anger left him. All that was left was the promise of justice right around the corner. It was just waiting for him to take it. “I may not know you, but you do know me.”

  This time it was Henry that smiled.

  “So, I ask you, partner, what would Henry Ward normally do in this situation?”

  A second of silence moved between them.

  Then Calvin’s face fell. His glee and ego with it. Lines of worry stretched across his expression and his eyes widened to make room for fear.

  Still, he answered, “He’d fight like hell.”

  Henry rolled his shoulders back. “I guess you really do know me.”

  Then he charged.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cassie swatted Michael away.

  He rolled his eyes.

  “I’m trying to help you, woman,” he whispered. “Let me go in first.”

  They were standing at the back end of a decrepit deck, careful to keep out of sight of the car sitting out front. Michael had a snazzy revolver in his hand, while Cassie had pregnancy hormones. They weren’t being nice, either. Since Michael had made her promise not to try to escape or, worse, try to take on Calvin by herself, he’d untied her and given her two options.

  She could wait in the house, hiding until Calvin and his goons left and then sneak out, or he could sneak her into his car and make up an excuse to leave.

  Then Cassie had given him two choices.

  He could either sit by like a coward while potentially two women and a good, good man were killed, or he could set an example for his future child by helping to save the father of her future child.

  He had said some not-so-good words and now they were about to sneak into a house where he’d seen Kristen taken. So, basically, he’d made the only right choice.

  “Cassie,” he warned when she still wouldn’t retreat behind him. “They think I’m on their team, remember?”

  She took a deep breath, annoyed, but nodded. He put his gun behind his back and stood tall. Cassie followed him and then ducked to the side as he knocked on the door. Footfalls stirred inside. Cassie didn’t have time to evaluate just how terrified she should be. She put her hand on her stomach. All she knew was that no one was going to take any part of her son’s family away from him.

  The door opened, but she couldn’t see the person on the other side. Judging by Michael’s lack of pulling his gun, she assumed they knew each other. Then she heard her.

  “Hey, Paula, how’s the arm?”

  The woman snorted. “Nothing a dead pregnant chick wouldn’t fix.”

  Cassie’s blood went cold.

  Michael kept a straight face.

  “Sounds like you have some issues to work out,” he said with a good dose of annoyance. “Until then, Calvin told me to come talk to the blond woman. See if I could find anything out from her.”

  Paula huffed. “Good luck. I already tried to beat some sense into her, but she kept her mouth shut.”

  Cassie’s rage nearly blinded her.

  Michael took a small step forward.

  “I have a way with words,” he said.

  Paula made a noise that Cassie was ready to bet was accompanied by her rolling her eyes.

  “Whatever.”

  She must have turned away. In a move that was truly the epitome of graceful, he leaped forward through the doorway. Cassie didn’t wait on the sidelines any longer. She sprang in behind him, ready to do some damage, but came up short.

  Michael had Paula in a headlock, one hand over her mouth. Cassie hurried and closed the door behind them, hoping no one outside had heard the scuffle. The dark-haired woman raged against the man, fighting him and unconsciousness. She kicked back and flailed until her heel came up right where the sun didn’t shine.

  Michael held in his groan of pain and his hold on her drooped. Cassie wasn’t having any of it. She lunged forward and punched the spot where she’d shot the woman the day before.

  That did the trick.

  She cried out around Michael’s hand but had lost some of her fight. It was enough to let the man get the upper hand. Finally, Paula went limp.

  Michael was less graceful about dropping her unconscious body to the floor.

  “I am not a fan of that woman,” he said, out of breath.

  Cassie would have agreed, but movement in the corner of the room caught her attention.

  It was Kristen, tied up to a chair, but alive.

  Cassie could have cried as she hurried to her older sister’s side. She ripped the duct tape off her mouth.

  “Are you okay?” Cassie asked, restraining her emotions to a low voice.

  “Is there anyone else in the house?” Michael asked at her shoulder.

  Kristen had a bruise across her face and blood on her cheek. There were also signs of a black eye. But she answered quickly with a voice that didn’t waver.

  “That horrible woman was the only one I ever saw in here. Everyone else went back out to the car or
drove off.” She turned her gaze to Cassie. “Maggie is in the next room.”

  Michael nodded and started for the door.

  “Let Cassie go instead,” Kristen advised hurriedly. “Maggie already roughed up two men. The only reason they didn’t kill her was that Calvin stepped in.” Her eyes moved back to Cassie’s. They glassed over. “They separated me and Henry. I don’t know where he is, but he tried really hard to save me.”

  Cassie gave her sister a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “It’s okay. We’re going to save him, too,” she said, resolute. “Michael, untie her, please. I’ll get Maggie.”

  Bless him, he did just that.

  * * *

  HENRY SENT CALVIN crashing through the window. The force of the righteousness he felt in his chest, plus the running start and mass of muscle he had on him, helped break the glass against his old partner’s back.

  Then they were airborne.

  Then the ground met them with a vengeance.

  Calvin’s breath made a noise as it left his body from the impact. Henry’s body rag-dolled off him. Glass and pain were shared between them.

  But then it was time to finish what Henry had started.

  He rolled over onto his knees, grinding glass against the grass and dirt beneath him. Calvin might have been surprised and in pain, but if there was one thing they had established, it was that he did know Henry.

  Which meant he knew he had to recover fast or else he’d lose.

  He rolled onto his side, still wheezing. He was going to go for the gun at his back. The same one that must have hurt like hell to land on.

  Henry leaned back to his ankle. His hands might have still been cuffed, but he could reach the one thing he knew Calvin hadn’t taken from him. By the time Calvin was struggling to stand and pull his gun, Henry already had the knife in his hands and was on his feet.

 

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