Likely Suspects

by G. K. Parks

  “Join me.” He was swimming laps in the pool and stopped to take a break.

  I sat on a lounge chair, my nine millimeter and cell phone next to me. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

  His eyes danced with mischievous glee. “I keep them stocked just in case I have an unprepared guest. Guest bathroom, top drawer in the vanity.” I couldn’t tell if he was kidding. “Go get changed,” he insisted.

  I hedged, but he kept staring expectantly at me. “Fine.” I marched into the house. After changing into the least skimpy two-piece I could find, I went back outside. “Happy?”

  “Ecstatic,” he replied. I descended the steps into the pool, so I was halfway submerged. “The blue brings out your eyes.” He attempted to charm me by mentioning the shiny blue swimsuit I had selected.

  “How would you know? You’ve been staring at my tits the whole time.”

  “I have not. Well,” he paused, giving me an admiring grin, “not the entire time.”

  “So you were staring at my tits?” I smirked at him, teasing.

  “You just think you’re so smart.”

  “I am actually.” Smiling demurely, I suddenly stopped, horrified. “Oh dear god, you’re rubbing off on me.” I cringed, and he laughed before going back to swimming laps.

  I watched him swim, glad to be in the cooler water instead of sitting on the lounge chair in the scorching sun; although, I’d never willingly admit that. When I turned to make sure my phone and gun were still on the chair and I didn’t accidentally take them back inside, he used the distraction as the perfect opportunity to reach for my leg and pull me through the water towards him.

  “I thought you said you were joining me?” he asked innocently, having dragged me into the middle of the pool.

  “I’m in the water. What more do you want?” As I tried to edge my way back to my perch on the steps, he grinned seductively, so I splashed him. And that was it. The stress of the last few weeks was temporarily forgotten as we swam and splashed about. “Stop.” I cocked my head to the side, listening. There had been a sound.

  “What?”

  I put my finger to his lips and frowned, straining to hear. “I thought I heard something.” Extracting myself from his grasp, I headed toward the pool steps, still listening intensely.

  I went to the chair, grabbed my gun, pulled the slide back to chamber a round, slipped on my shoes, and carefully walked around the side of the house as I checked for intruders. There was no one to be seen, out front or anywhere else. When I returned to the pool area, Martin was toweling off.

  “What did you hear?” he asked, watching as I put the safety back on and took the offered towel.

  “I don’t know. I must be losing it. It sounded like a car door or something.” I squinted into the distance just to be sure I didn’t miss anything. “Let’s head inside, anyway. It’s better to err on the side of caution.”

  He knew my serious mode and didn’t question it. After he deactivated and reactivated the alarm system, he went to shower and change while I checked, then double and triple checked the security system and the monitors Mark and Martin had set up, making sure no unwanted visitors were around.

  “You’re cracking up, Parker,” I said to myself.

  I activated the exterior motion sensors and physically checked the four floors of Martin’s compound, making sure no one was lurking in the shadows. Once I was reasonably satisfied we were alone, I rinsed off and dressed quickly. Something had spooked me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling something horrible was about to happen. The entire time, the noise kept replaying in my head.

  I put my wet hair in a ponytail and was back downstairs in less than three minutes. Watching the surveillance feed as the cameras rotated throughout the grounds and house, I searched for a vehicle. I was positive I heard a car door, the characteristic thump of the metal against the foam-like waterproof sealant, but there were no cars and no intruders. Before I could go outside to check for tire tracks, my phone rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “Goddamn,” I cursed, trying to calm my heart which was now pounding loudly in my ears. I fumbled for the phone and hit answer. “Hello?” I took a few deep breaths.

  “Parker?” O’Connell’s voice sounded over the thumping in my ears.

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “We got a match. We’re waiting for the arrest warrant, and then we’re bringing in Denton.”

  “That’s great.” I guess my excitement seemed anti-climactic.

  “Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

  “Sorry, something just spooked me earlier, and the phone nearly gave me a heart attack,” I admitted. “But that is excellent news. What are the charges?”

  “For now, just the B&E, but it will place him close enough to our murder scene. It should be enough to gain access to his financial records, and hopefully, we can get him on conspiracy. Maybe even murder.”

  “Okay, keep me updated.”

  As I paced in front of the screen, my eyes never left the video feed. I struggled to be rational. There was no sign of anything amiss outside. Maybe I hadn’t heard a thing with all the splashing and tomfoolery. Running scenarios through my mind, I couldn’t decide if leaving the house would be worse in the long run. Maybe I should call O’Connell back and ask if some uniforms would drive by, just to be on the safe side. I had just decided to check outside once more before phoning for backup when Martin came down the stairs.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He scrutinized my face.

  “I don’t know.” I double-checked the magazine in my gun and put on my shoulder holster out of habit.

  “Are you going out?”

  “No,” I came out of my focused mode, “um, O’Connell called. Denton’s prints match the partials on the box. They’re bringing him in.” I gestured oddly with one hand as I clipped the gun into the holster with the other.

  “Are you going with them?” He was confused by my unusual behavior.

  “No,” I repeated, leaning against the back of the couch. I felt a little shaky. The ringing from the phone had thrown my nervous system into fight or flight mode. “I’m going to call O’Connell back and see if he can spare someone to drive a patrol car by, just to make sure I’m clinically insane and having auditory hallucinations.”

  “I think that’s called paracusia.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Word-of-the-day,” I snapped, and he raised his eyebrows but kept his mouth shut. I called O’Connell, and he promised someone would pass the house as soon as they could. I thanked him and hung up. “You really didn’t hear anything outside?” I asked Martin.

  Either I heard something, or I had gone mad. Maybe my erratic sleep habits had made me a little crazy and put me far enough on edge to intensify the unshakeable feeling of impending doom.

  “Not a thing.” He watched me cautiously as if I were a rabid animal.

  “Great,” I said sarcastically. I slid down to the floor from my position against the couch and shut my eyes, hoping to clear my head and force my brain to think rationally.

  “Hey.” Martin knelt on the ground next to me and touched my cheek. “You’re okay. Stress and heat and all this can mess with anyone, but you’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

  I opened my eyes and looked at him. Things did not feel fine.

  “Shit.” My eyes got wide.

  If there was a vehicle on the private road, I wouldn’t be able to see it because the road winds up to the house and is surrounded by trees. He seemed even more worried by my outburst, but I ignored him as I frantically flipped through the cameras, trying to determine if any of them covered the road that far from the compound. Could I have even heard a car door from that distance? Maybe I was spiraling into some kind of nervous breakdown.

  “Call O’Connell and tell him to get some guys here ASAP.” I stood up and went to the closet, pulling out the flak jackets Mark had left. I tossed one to Martin and fastened the other around my torso. “Put that on and keep away from the windows.
” He was still watching me nervously. “Do it. I might be crazy, but honestly, that’s a much better option than what I’m thinking.”

  I carefully peered out the front window, but I didn’t see anything. I needed to know what was coming in order to devise a feasible plan. “I’m going out the back. Make sure you lock the door behind me and keep the security system armed.” I deactivated the exterior motion sensors to avoid tripping the alarm, but I wanted the house to remain as impenetrable as possible.

  He seemed frightened by my outburst and even more so by my barking orders. “Alex,” he said my name forcefully, and I caught his eye. But he decided it was best to do what I asked. “Be careful.”

  “Always.”

  Slipping out the back door and staying against the house as I circled around to the side, I listened for the sounds of cars, voices, or pretty much anything else. I didn’t hear a thing. Avoiding the driveway, I went through the yard, remaining hidden within the shrubbery. As I approached the treed private road, I saw it. A black SUV, tinted windows, brush guards — the works, parked just far enough up the private road to avoid being seen by drivers on the main thoroughfare but still far enough away to avoid detection from the house.

  I flattened myself against the ground. What to do? How many people were in the SUV? It was definitely large enough to hold an entire assault team. Backup was on the way. I just had to keep the situation under control until then. Slowly, I edged away from the tree line and went back to the house, keeping myself as invisible as possible. When I got to the back door, I entered the security code, went in, shut the door, and re-engaged the security system. Some good that would do, I thought bitterly. Martin was where I left him. Luckily, he put on the bulletproof vest.

  “Okay, you made the call?” I asked from the kitchen as I retrieved the shotgun and loaded it with shells.

  “Yes, they’re on their way.” He came into the kitchen, and I handed it to him.

  “Do you know how to use one of these?” I was serious, and he knew we had a problem. He nodded. “Good.” I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I tried again. “There’s an SUV parked on the road, black, looks like what the paramilitary types drive. My guess would be they’re mercenaries. I don’t know how many guys are in there, but it could be an entire assault team. Best to prepare for the worst. I need you to get to the safest location possible.”

  “We should call 911.”

  The entire situation was surreal, and I wasn’t sure if calling for a squad of police cars was a good idea. The flashing lights and sirens could mean a death sentence, or it could scare them away. It was a coin toss decision, and O’Connell already had guys en route.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I cautioned, but Martin picked up the phone.

  “It’s dead.” He looked confused, and the blood drained from my face.

  “Move now!”

  I shoved him from the room and to the staircase. Up or down? My mind raced. The front window shattered as a small metal canister hit the ground, and simultaneously, the home security system began to wail. The flashbang went off disorienting me with the bright light and sound. I pushed Martin up the steps. They’d be closing in any second.

  Thirty-four

  The back door blew open, and two guys in full tactical gear entered the house. I took cover in the stairwell while Martin headed up the steps. They were professional killers as indicated by their gear and assault rifles. I couldn’t afford to be in a shootout since I was outgunned and without the proper body armor. Taking the stairs sideways, I prepared to provide as much cover fire as possible. Martin stopped on the third floor, and I motioned for him to go up another level.

  Quickly, I went into my room and got my backup pistol, stowing it in the now empty slot on my shoulder holster. Pressing my back against the wall next to the stairway, I cast a brief glance up the steps. Martin disappeared on the top floor, and I hoped he would be safe.

  The men were downstairs, methodically clearing all of the rooms on the second floor. After which, they would either go down to the first floor, or they’d come up to the third, unless more guys had already breached on another level. I pushed the thought out of my head. Focus on one problem at a time. I held my position, waiting and listening. Somehow, I managed to ignore the wail of the security system and focus solely on the two mercenaries.

  I heard them at the bottom of the steps, and I took a breath and waited. If these bastards were going to kill me, I would take as many of them with me as possible. The door to the first floor opened, and I risked a quick peek to see if more of their friends had joined the party. Amazingly, the two men headed down the stairs to clear the first level. One waited near the top of the steps, only barely in the garage, while the other went to check the area.

  I crept down the stairs as quickly and silently as possible; my window of opportunity was closing by the second. Why the hell didn’t I have a taser, I thought angrily as I got behind the man. I couldn’t fire a shot. It was too loud, and his partner would turn me into Swiss cheese in a split second. Grabbing the man in a firm chokehold, I held on tight as he grabbed at my arms and tried to buck me forward, but his footing on the narrow steps limited his movements. This is an incredibly stupid idea, my internal voice screamed. Thankfully, he went limp, and I did my best to set him down quietly. I didn’t know how long he would be out or how quickly his partner would finish checking the ground floor.

  Taking the assault rifle from around his neck, I slung it across my body and noticed a few zip ties stuck in his back pocket. At least one of us came prepared. I debated dragging him up the steps and away from his teammate. Divide and conquer. I grabbed the man’s arm and dragged him up the two steps. He was heavy, and I strained to pull his bulk and combat gear just a few inches. Once I managed to get him onto the second floor, I zip tied his hands and ankles and glanced down the stairs.

  The footsteps of the second mercenary were getting closer. I grabbed the downed gunman by the ankles and dragged him into the living room. My back screamed out in protest, but I ignored it. It was only a couple of feet, but it was enough. I just needed to be able to shut the door, but the second mercenary was already at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me.

  I swung the assault rifle forward and fired wildly, spraying the area with bullets. The man took cover, and I shut and locked the door. Shoving the side table in front of the door like a barricade, I knew it wouldn’t hold him for long, but it was the best I could do. I needed to buy time. As I ran up the stairs, gunfire erupted from below, splintering the wood door and the table. I needed to find someplace secure to hide.

  Martin, I thought frantically. Hopefully, he was holed up on the fourth floor somewhere safe. I couldn’t risk leading the gunmen straight to him, so I took refuge on the third floor. Create a distraction. My mind circled through possibilities, dismissing the unfeasible ones faster than any supercomputer. I ran down the hallway to the laundry room, looking for something to use as a makeshift Molotov cocktail. Too bad laundry detergent and bleach weren’t flammable. I sprinted back to my room. By now, the door to the first floor had been broken down, and I had only seconds before the mercenary came up the stairs.

  I ran into the bathroom and found the mouthwash and hairspray. Would the alcohol content be enough to ignite? It was my only option. I popped the top off the hairspray and poured it into the mouthwash and stuffed some rolled up toilet paper into the mouth of the bottle. The bathroom drawer contained a matchbook, and I lit the corner of the paper. I didn’t need to hurt him with this. I just needed to create a diversion. Throwing open the French doors, I set the slowly burning bottle on the terrace, just out of sight. I got into the closet, cracking the door open slightly and waiting.

  Heavy footsteps sounded outside the room. Please check the terrace first, I silently prayed. The armor-clad man entered the room slowly, glancing around cautiously. I held my breath. He circled toward the terrace and the bathroom, his gun poised, ready to decimate any and everyt
hing. He checked the bathroom first before going out the French doors. He was barely outside when the mouthwash concoction flared up, not quite the explosion I hoped for but enough to make him turn and shield himself.

  Emerging from the closet, I rolled for cover and crouched against the bed. I aimed and fired, unrelenting. The bullets made contact but didn’t penetrate his armor. The mercenary returned fire, and I ducked down as feathers and stuffing exploded around me. I fired blindly, hoping to get lucky.

  This was a really bad idea, the voice in my head criticized. I was pinned down. We continued to return fire until I squeezed the trigger and heard a click. Empty. I grabbed my nine millimeter from my waistband and took a breath. The sound of the return fire was so loud the room echoed as white fluff and feathers flew through the air like macabre confetti indicating the death of hundreds of birds. The moment the bullets stopped flying I knew I had only a second while the man reloaded. Leveling my gun at him, I used what was left of the mattress to steady my shot and pulled the trigger. I fired twice, initially missing. The second shot made contact with his neck, and the impact sent him tumbling over the balcony to the ground below.

  Unsteadily, I made my way to the balcony. The mercenary lay on the ground, not moving. The pool of blood around his head spread across the concrete walkway that led to Martin’s Infinity pool. One down, I thought. If there were only two guys, one was dead and the other may still be unconscious on the second floor. I was going to check on the first guy when I heard a sound from above. Racing up the stairs, I had to get to Martin before it was too late.

  I took the stairs two at a time until I emerged onto the fourth floor. Ducking against the wall, I peered around the corner. No one was in sight. I crouched down and checked again before crossing the hallway to his bedroom. I opened the door and looked around, but I didn’t see anyone inside.

  “Martin,” I hissed. I needed to make sure he wasn’t here before I continued down the hallway. There was no response, so I carefully made my way back into the hallway and down to the next room, which was his office.