Justice for Corrie (Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes Book 3)

by Susan Stoker

  She did as instructed, intertwining her fingers together on the back of her head, knowing the officers were probably jacked-up on adrenaline, and she didn’t want to survive the workplace shooting only to make a wrong move and be accidently shot by the good guys. She felt her wrists being forcibly grasped and held in place. She stayed sitting, waiting for more instructions. She felt another pair of hands patting down her sides, obviously looking for a weapon. After they found nothing, Corrie felt her hands being released.

  “Who are you? What’s your name?”

  “Corrie Madison. I’m a chiropractor here.”

  “Can you tell us what happened?”

  “I can tell you what I know, but please…is Cayley okay? What about Mr. Treadaway? I think there were others waiting for their appointments…” Her voice drifted off as she waited for reassurance that wouldn’t ever come.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Madison, they didn’t make it. Now, what can you tell us? What did you see?”

  Corrie turned toward the demanding voice. Sometimes she forgot people couldn’t tell she was blind. It was refreshing, usually, but she’d give anything, absolutely anything at this point, to be able to tell this officer that she could identify who had killed her coworkers. She tried to hold back her tears. This was no time to lose it.

  “I’m blind, officer. I didn’t see anything.”

  Chapter 2

  Corrie tried to follow the hostess as she led her to a table in the crowded restaurant. She tapped her cane on the ground in front of her, making sure she didn’t run into any chairs or tables. People didn’t necessarily take the easy way when leading her places, and Corrie had banged her shins too many times to risk not using her cane.

  Besides that, Corrie wasn’t at her best. She was stressed-out, jumpy, and definitely out of sorts. In the six days since the shooting, she’d experienced extreme highs and lows, and today was definitely a low.

  Immediately after the massacre, she’d been brought to the police station to be questioned. She’d told the detective everything she knew about the man who’d murdered Cayley and the other innocent people. She’d told them about the shooter’s cologne and how she thought he had a funny walk. Knowing her observations probably weren’t very helpful, she tried to tell the detective everything she could think of anyway.

  After she was allowed to leave, she’d called her best friend, Emily, and her partner, Bethany, to come get her. She’d stayed at their house that night, but refused to stay any longer than that. She was tough; she had to get back to her life.

  Corrie had thought she was handling everything that had happened pretty well…at least until the funerals had started. Emily had taken her to Cayley’s service and subsequent funeral, and it’d been one of the worst experiences of her life. All she’d wanted to do was mourn her friend and coworker, but the reporters wouldn’t leave anyone alone. Thank God they didn’t know she was the lone survivor of the actual shooting. So far, at least, the police had managed to keep her name out of the media for her safety, but Corrie knew it was only a matter of time before her name was leaked.

  She hadn’t slept well the first couple of nights back in her apartment, but Corrie had expected that. She kept hearing the shooter’s voice in her head and she swore the smell of him was somehow stuck in her nostrils.

  She thought she was finally getting back to normal, although she hadn’t been able to step foot back into the clinic yet. Dr. Garza was being very patient with her. He’d hired a company to clean the small office from top to bottom and was hoping to re-open the following week. Corrie had no idea if they’d be able to make it in the same space…who would want to come and get their spine adjusted at a place where some crazy person had come in and killed a bunch of people? Dr. Garza had made some security changes to the front reception area. Hopefully that would make clients feel safer.

  They still hadn’t heard from Shaun, and it wasn’t until after her initial police interview that Corrie remembered what the killer had said on his phone to somebody, that he’d been specifically looking for someone who wasn’t there. It had to have been Shaun, and now no one could find him. Corrie had tried calling his wife, but the woman had been distraught because she hadn’t heard from him since the massacre either.

  She’d immediately called the detective who had done her initial interview and let him know what she’d remembered.

  Corrie hadn’t been planning on meeting with her lawyer again—she’d retained the services of one with Emily’s urging—until there was more information about the case, but she’d received a threatening phone call yesterday. She remembered every word…there weren’t very many to remember.

  “Keep your mouth shut and you’ll live.”

  It seemed as though her name had somehow been leaked after all.

  Corrie realized the person on the phone wasn’t the same man who had killed everyone in the clinic; she didn’t recognize the voice. It was deep and menacing and she knew he meant every word. It pissed her off and scared her a bit at the same time.

  She wasn’t paying as much attention to her surroundings as she should’ve been as she made her way to her table in the restaurant, because she was thinking about all that had happened in the last day and trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do. She was wrenched back to her surroundings when she bounced off of someone and heard a loud crash as whatever he was carrying fell to the floor, shattering around them.

  “Oh my, I’m so sorry!”

  “Jesus Christ, are you fucking blind? Watch where you’re walking, why don’t you? How’d you like it if I came to your workplace and made you look like a schmuck in front of everyone?”

  Corrie didn’t like to bring attention to her disability, but this guy’s words rubbed against her raw nerves. “As a matter of fact, I am blind,” she retorted “I already apologized for running into you, but if you’d been paying attention as well, you would’ve seen me and you could’ve gone around me.”

  She heard the man huff and take in a breath to respond when another voice cut in suddenly. It was muted and gruff, and Corrie felt goose bumps race down her arms as he spoke.

  “Everyone all right here?”

  Before Corrie could pull herself together enough to respond, the busboy groused, “Hunky-dory.”

  “Miss? Why don’t you just step over here out of the way.”

  Corrie gasped a bit as she felt the man who’d asked if they were okay take her elbow in his large hand and steer her off to her left. His hand was warm on her elbow. She could feel each finger wrap around her bare arm, and the feeling of safety and protection she experienced almost made her jerk away in confusion. She’d never, in her entire life, felt anything like it. She didn’t understand it, and that freaked her out.

  “Are you okay? You didn’t get hit by any flying glass or anything?” The man’s voice was soothing and calm.

  “No, I think I’m all right. Thank you.”

  “Can I help you—”

  “I’m not an invalid, no matter what you might think of blind people.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Yes, you did, most people do.” Corrie didn’t know what had come over her. She usually blew off people’s concerns and went on her way. She’d never, not once, been as snarky to someone who was clearly just trying to be polite and helpful as she was to this man. But after her crap week, and not liking the feeling of vulnerability that came with his touch, she was unusually gruff.

  “I really just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t slip on the water on the floor.”

  “Why? Because I can’t see it? Because I’m an idiot and I’d purposely go tromping through the middle of the spilled stuff to prove a point?” Corrie breathed hard. She really wanted to stop the words that were vomiting out of her mouth, but she was so stressed, she just couldn’t. She wouldn’t blame the man if he turned around and left her standing there…she would’ve if their roles had been reversed.

  “Well, no, because I’m trying to be a gentleman.”


  “A gentleman. Yeah, like there are any of those left in the world today.”

  Corrie felt a light touch on her hand, and heard the humor in the man’s voice as he said, “My name is Quint Axton, I’m happy to meet you.”

  Reacting on instinct, Corrie lifted her hand in greeting. “Corrie Madison.”

  “Are you meeting someone here, Corrie?” He hadn’t let her hand go and Corrie was irritated with herself for noticing how large it was and how small she felt standing there with her hand in his. And she wasn’t a short woman. At five feet nine, she was generally the same size, or taller, than most people, but Corrie could tell this man was a bit taller than she was. He smelled good, like soap and the coffee he’d obviously drunk sometime recently. She could hear his clothes rustling and creaking as he stood in front of her. She had no idea what in the world he was wearing that would make him creak, but she had other things to worry about right then.

  “Yeah, he should be here any minute. So you can just leave the poor blind woman here against the wall and he’ll be along to take care of me soon.” The words came out without thought, Corrie forgetting the hostess was probably lurking nearby to guide her to her table. She just wanted this man to go. He was disturbing her on a personal level and she didn’t have time to be attracted to anyone. Her life was way too up in the air right now. She mentally kicked herself for not taking Emily up on the offer to accompany her today.

  “Maybe I should start us off again.” The man brought the hand he was still holding up to his chest. Corrie fingered the cold metal under her fingertips, even as she was aware he hadn’t completely let go of her hand. His fingers were resting on the back of it, running his thumb over the bones there as if trying to gentle her, as she tried to figure out what it was she was touching.

  “My name is Officer Quint Axton with the San Antonio Police Department, and I’m pleased to meet you,” he said formally.

  “Oh my God,” Corrie whispered, her tone of voice immediately changing to one of chagrin. She snatched her hand back after realizing what she was feeling. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect, I mean…”

  The man laughed, and Corrie sighed in relief. The last thing she wanted to do was piss off a cop. She had enough on her plate at the moment.

  “I just wanted to make sure you knew before you said something you might really regret.”

  “I am so sorry. I’m not usually like this. I’ve had a really really really bad week.”

  The officer, Quint, chuckled. “It’s okay. Now, are you sure you’re all right here? The person you’re waiting for will be here soon?”

  “Yeah, he’s my lawyer.”

  “Your lawyer?” Quint’s voice dropped in concern. A concern Corrie could somehow physically feel. She ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to get warm, feeling her cane bump against her leg as it dangled from her wrist.

  “Yeah,” Corrie said in a soft voice. “I heard a murder. I think someone’s trying to shut me up, and I have to figure out what’s going to happen next.”

  Corrie felt herself being moved again. Quint had taken her elbow in his hand and shuffled her farther to the side.

  “We’re here at the booth. Do you need help scooting in?”

  Corrie put her hand out and felt the back of the seat. “I’ve got it. Thanks.”

  She knew she should be freaking out right now, but she just didn’t have it in her. After everything that had happened, it felt good to have a police officer take control. She had no idea if this was the table the hostess was going to lead her to or not, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She couldn’t help but remember the relief she’d felt when she heard the officers come into the clinic, knowing they’d be able to help her.

  Corrie felt the cold plastic through her jeans and swiveled her hips until her legs were under the table. She folded her cane without thought, having done it more times in her life than she’d ever be able to count, and stuffed it into her purse at her side. Corrie moved over and heard Quint sit on the other side of the table. She didn’t say anything, figuring she’d probably already said too much. It wasn’t like her to blurt out her personal history to anyone, even if he was a police officer.

  “Corrie…right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”

  “No.”

  “No?” He sounded surprised.

  Corrie sighed. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult here. But I don’t know you. You could be the guy after me.” She knew he wasn’t, he didn’t smell anything like the shooter and didn’t sound like the other man on the phone, but she went with it anyway. “Anyone can go out and buy a badge and pretend to be a cop.”

  “Cruz!”

  Corrie jerked in her seat. He wasn’t talking to her, but his voice had been loud, nevertheless. He’d turned his head and barked the name in the opposite direction from where she was sitting. He’d obviously been shouting at someone across the restaurant. It wasn’t fifteen seconds later when Corrie heard two sets of footsteps coming up to their table.

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  Quint answered the man without giving her a chance to speak. “This is Corrie Madison. She can’t see, and doesn’t believe I’m a cop. Would you please reassure her?” His words were not pitying, just stating the facts.

  Corrie burst in without thinking. “Okay, yeah, that won’t work either. If he’s your friend, you guys could’ve planned this in advance…pick up some unsuspecting woman who will buy your story, and if she doesn’t, bring in the friend to validate you are who you say you are. And the fact that I’m blind is just icing on the cake, making your entire scam that much easier.”

  A feminine chuckle rang out through the silence that followed her somewhat foolish statement. Corrie had forgotten there were two people who’d come up to the table. “You tell ‘em. And for the record, I like you, Corrie.”

  “Mickie…” The voice was teasingly warning the woman to shush.

  “Sorry…just pretend I’m not here…carry on,” she commented, but with a hint of humor in her voice, as if she was used to her boyfriend’s demanding ways.

  Corrie could just imagine the man standing by their table rolling his eyes. His voice was calm and reassuring when he spoke. “Yeah, you’re right. We could be running a scam here, but we’re not. The man sitting across from you is Quint Axton. He’s six foot two, has dark hair, thirty-six years old, and has worked for the San Antonio PD for about ten years. I could tell you a lot more, but I’m trying to be brief. I’m Cruz Livingston, FBI. My girlfriend here is Mickie Kaiser. If it’s not enough validation for you, I could call our other friend, Dax, who is a Texas Ranger. I understand why you’re being careful, but Quint is who he says he is. I’d swear on Mickie’s life.”

  Those pesky goose bumps rose on Corrie’s arms again. She could tell the man was being one-hundred percent earnest. She’d gotten pretty good at reading people’s voices, since she couldn’t see any nonverbal cues. The fact that this man swore on the life of the woman standing next to him was about as honest as she’d ever heard from anyone before.

  She held out her hand in the direction of the man standing at the side of the booth. “Corrie Madison. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Her hand was gripped in a strong but not crushing grasp. “Nice to meet you too, Corrie.” He dropped her hand and they all stayed silent for a moment. It felt awkward to Corrie, but she didn’t know if it was just her or not.

  She couldn’t see Cruz raise his eyebrows at Quint, and she didn’t see Quint motioning his friend to go back to his table with his head.

  “Hopefully I’ll see you around, Corrie. Trust Quint. He’s one of the best officers the SAPD has. He’ll do right by you.”

  With those words, Corrie heard Cruz and Mickie step away from the booth and head back across the restaurant.

  “Okay?”

  Corrie really wasn’t okay. She had no idea what the hell she was doing. Would she be able to go back to w
ork? Was the threatening phone call for real? What would her lawyer suggest? She had no idea what was going on and she felt as though her life was spinning out of control. Before she could open her mouth to spill her guts and say something wussy and out of character for her, such as “no, I’m not okay, but I think if you held me it might go a long way toward making me feel better,” Corrie heard another set of footsteps approach the table.

  “Ms. Kaiser? Oh! Lieutenant Axton, I didn’t realize you’d be here too. This situation is a mess. I’m glad you’re here.”

  Corrie’s heart leapt in response to Mr. Herrington’s words. He knew the officer by sight, so he had to be legit. She’d already pretty much believed it after Cruz’s words, but it was nice for it to be validated again.

  “The shit’s hit the fan,” Mr. Herrington continued, obviously assuming Corrie and the lieutenant were friends, and easing into the seat next to her, “and Corrie here is gonna need all the help she can get to stay one step ahead of this asshole.”

  Chapter 3

  Corrie’s heart sank at her lawyer’s comment. Lord, what now?

  “Talk to me.” Quint’s words were terse and grumbly…that was the only way Corrie could describe them.

  “Corrie? I’m assuming you’re okay with him being here and hearing our conversation? I didn’t realize you knew Lieutenant Axton.”

  “I—”

  “She knows me.” Quint cut off her words, and Corrie tilted her head at him, wondering what he was doing. Technically he wasn’t lying, she’d just met him so she guessed that meant she knew him, but he was obviously implying that they’d known each other for a while…longer than ten minutes or so.

  “This is a bit unusual. Are you here on or off the record?”

  “Off.”

  “Corrie?” Mr. Herrington’s question lay between them.

  Corrie was confused. She didn’t know Quint, didn’t know why he was there—other than to help her not slip in the spilled water from the busboy she’d run into—didn’t know why he wanted to be there. Had no idea why he’d said things were off the record. She trembled in confusion, wanting to have someone else help her make some scary decisions about what she was supposed to do now, but was Quint the man to help her? She honestly didn’t know.