Wolfman is Back

by Dwayne Clayden

  Brad turned to them. “What do you mean the first time?”

  Mitchell grinned. “Two years ago, the sergeant for TSU came into the bar. He wasn’t in uniform, but we recognized him right away. He picked a fight with four bikers playing pool. For some reason he thought he could take them. They got the better of him. We called for backup. We were ready to intervene if needed. But the bouncers stopped the fight. Before the bouncers kicked the shit out of him, the first cops arrived.”

  Brad laughed. “Ah, crap. You guys saved my ass two years ago.”

  Mitchell grinned. “Yeah, we did. The bikers gave you a good beating. It was kinda fun to watch. I guess sooner or later you guys were gonna blow our cover.”

  “We’re a little hotheaded right now.” Brad glanced at Zerr, then back to Mitchell. “You guys hear anything about Jeter Wolfe?”

  “Only that he wasted two Angels,” Mitchell said. “They’re looking for Wolfe harder than you. My money’s on them finding him first. When they’re done, there won’t be anything left to identify.”

  “All right,” Brad said. “Thanks again. When this is all done, Zerr owes you a night of free beer.”

  The big guy grinned. “We like beer.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Tuesday Early Morning

  Brad slipped quietly into the house. He reset the alarm, kicked off his shoes, and hung his jacket on the coat hook by the door. He turned and gasped. Lobo was sitting there in the dark, eyes shining, tongue hanging.

  Brad knelt. “Jeez, Lobo. Don’t you know it’s not nice to sneak up on someone. Especially someone as exhausted as me.” Lobo followed Brad to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and stared at the contents. Screw it. He grabbed a beer and popped the cap. “Lobo, come.” They walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to Brad’s office. He plunked into his chair and took a long drink of the beer. Ah, that hits the spot. Lobo sat at his feet and was snoring within seconds.

  How could things have gone so horribly wrong? He couldn’t piece it together. How was Wolfe ahead of him? How did Wolfe know what they were doing? And how the hell had Wolfe found Tina and Devlin.

  He took a big breath, leaned back in the seat, and closed his eyes. Mistake. He could see their empty car. Blood on the passenger side, and in his mind, he could see Devlin lying on the ground. Blood pooling around him.

  On the driver’s side he saw the struggle. Wolfe attacking. Tina putting up a valiant fight. But there was no way she was going to stop him. Maybe Wolfe hit her. Maybe he choked her. Maybe Wolfe simply overpowered her and threw her in the van. Who knew? This was screwed up.

  He opened his eyes. Maggie was standing in the doorway. “You’re home late. Well, early, I guess. It’s almost sunrise. I didn’t even see you yesterday.”

  “It was a messed up day.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Tina was kidnapped.”

  Maggie gasped. “When? How?”

  “She was working with Devlin. I thought we should call it a night late Sunday evening. Tina wanted to keep looking for Wolfe. Devlin said he’d work with her for an hour or two. They stopped at a convenience store. The clerk called 911 saying cops were being assaulted.”

  Maggie sat in a chair opposite Brad. “Wolfe?”

  Brad nodded.

  “You said she was with Devlin. How is he?”

  Brad shook his head. “Not good. When the first crew got there, they found him unconscious. Dixon and Thompson rushed him to the hospital. He was unconscious the whole way.”

  “Let me call the hospital. I’ll find out what’s happening.” Maggie started to get up but Brad shook his head. “Not now. You won’t find out anything. I was at the hospital in the morning. They’re running tests. They’re not going to know for a while.”

  “You need to sleep. It’s been days since you’ve slept.”

  Brad stood, took Maggie’s hand and pulled her up. “A few hours. Then I need coffee. Lots of it. Something to eat and a shower. Then I go after that son of a bitch.”

  “I know you’re upset—”

  “Frickin’ right I’m upset. I have one job. Find Wolfe and put him back in jail.”

  “What happens now?” Maggie asked.

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Tuesday Late Night

  Late that night, Brad and Griffin leaned against the car sipping coffee.

  “We’ve been searching the southeast for two nights,” Brad said. “Half the cops in the city are searching for Davidson. We haven’t found the van. We don’t know that she’s even in this area. If we don’t get a decent tip soon, it won’t be good.” Brad drank some coffee.

  Griffin stared at the dark liquid in his cup. “I don’t know what to say. You’re right. We’ve covered this area so many times I know it like the back of my hand.”

  “How is Wolfe eluding us? He’s the size of the Sasquatch, about as ugly, and probably stinks worse. He would standout everywhere, yet no one has seen him or recognizes his picture. Do we still focus on the southeast?”

  “What little we have points here,” Griffin said.

  The radio came to life. “All units southeast, from EMS dispatch, they’ve lost contact with one of their ambulances. Last known location was Seventeenth Avenue at Sixtieth Street southeast for a ‘man down’ complaint.”

  Brad flung his coffee onto the asphalt and jumped into the car. He had the car squealing out of the parking lot before Griffin had the door shut. The car bounced over the curb as he raced toward Seventeenth Avenue. A quick right turn and he accelerated.

  “Slow down,” Griffin said.

  Brad kept his foot on the accelerator, eyes sweeping the road. He grabbed the mic. “Dispatch, get any close unit responding now. Treat it as a code 200.”

  “Oh shit,” Griffin said. “Is Maggie working tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry,” Griffin said. “Keep going.” He braced his hand against the dashboard.

  “Update from EMS,” dispatch said. “They’re still unable to get in contact with the crew.”

  Griffin keyed the mic. “Do you know what ambulance unit/station or who the crew members are?”

  “Sorry,” dispatch said. “We don’t have that information. I’ll check.”

  Brad slammed his hands against the steering wheel several times. “Shit, shit.”

  A few blocks ahead they saw the red-and-blue lights of police vehicles. Brad caught up and was tempted to pass, but stayed close behind. They were going just as fast as he was.

  Up ahead they saw the red flashing lights of the ambulance parked at the side of the road.

  One police vehicle pulled in front of the ambulance, another to the side and Brad pulled in behind. He’d barely put the car in park when he was opening the door and racing toward the ambulance. He opened the back door. No one was inside. The cupboards were empty, and the medical supplies were strewn on the floor.

  Brad raced to the driver’s door. The cab was empty. He turned to the responding cops. “We’re gonna start a search. Two guys each side in the ditch. Go slow. We gotta find the paramedics.”

  They walked down the ditches, Brad and two cops on the left, Griffin and two cops on the right.

  Brad found Sharma, conscious, with his arms and legs bound with tape. A wide strip of tape covered his mouth. Brad ripped the tape off his mouth.

  “Is Maggie your partner?”

  “Maggie’s with Fola on Medic 12. I’m working with a new guy, Jay. Did you find him?”

  Brad shook his head and cut the tape off Sharma’s hands and feet.

  Sharma sat up and rubbed his wrists. “Our assailant dragged him over to the ditch. I couldn’t tell where they went. It was too dark.”

  “Griffin,” Brad yelled. “A paramedic is missing. Get some guys and start a search in the ditches.”

  “What the hell happened?” Brad asked Sharma.

  “When we got here a big guy was lying in the middle of the road. We almo
st didn’t see him it was so dark. He was lying on his stomach. I asked if he was okay but got no response. We rolled him onto his back. Next thing I know he’s got a knife to my neck. He demanded our drugs. I told him the drugs were in the ambulance and he was welcome to them.

  “The guy told my partner and me to lie down on our stomachs, then used tape to secure my arms and legs. When he tried to tape my partner, Jay fought. I yelled for him to relax, but he kept fighting. The big guy slammed my partner’s head onto the road a bunch of times. Jay stopped fighting. The guy taped Jay’s arms and legs, then put tape over our mouths.

  “He dragged me into the ditch, Jay somewhere else. Then he went to the ambulance. I heard a lot of crashing and banging in the ambulance.

  “Then he came back. He pulled the tape off and held the knife to my neck. He asked for the keys to the drug safe. I told him they were on my belt. The guy put the tape over my mouth again and grabbed the keys. I heard his boots crunch on the gravel, the ambulance door opened, and then silence. About a minute later I heard the ambulance door shut. A vehicle started and he was gone.”

  “Hey, Coulter,” Griffin yelled. “We found the other paramedic. He’s unconscious. We’re gonna need EMS.”

  Sirens sounded in the distance. Brad looked back toward Seventeenth Ave. The ambulance and several cruisers were heading toward them.

  Brad stood. “What did he look like?”

  “Not sure,” Sharma said. “It was dark and he was wearing a jacket with a hood. I don’t think I ever saw his face. But he was damn big.”

  “Do you think it was Wolfe?” Brad asked.

  “I wish I knew for sure, but I don’t.”

  “Okay. Another ambulance is pulling up.”

  Brad waited as the ambulance stopped in front of him. The passenger door opened—Maggie.

  He stepped toward her and pulled her into his arms. “Thank God you’re okay.” He released his grip. “I was worried. Dispatch couldn’t tell us who the paramedics were.”

  Maggie stepped back. “Are the paramedics all right?”

  “Sharma is good, but his partner, Jay, is unconscious. You need to check him out first.”

  “Okay. I’ll have Fola check Sharma just to make sure he’s fine. There’s another ambulance on the way. They can take over when they get here.”

  Brad watched her walk off with her kit, ready to help as she always was.

  Maggie stopped as if sensing his eyes on her, turned, and mouthed, “I love you” before walking away.

  Brad and Griffin watched the ambulances leave and slid into their car. “How’s Devlin?” Griffin asked.

  “Not good. He has internal bleeding and a half-dozen broken ribs. He’s on a respirator to help him breathe. The bones in one hand are crushed. He’s in ICU. They’re waiting and watching for him to wake up.”

  “Devlin’s tough.” Griffin shook his head. “How the hell did that happen? Two great cops, and Wolfman got the drop on them.”

  “We’d called it a night,” Brad said. “I should have made them go home.”

  “We were all tired.” Griffin rubbed his eyes. “It could have been any one of us. Every one of us would have done the same thing.”

  “That’s the problem, we were all tired,” Brad said. “The only one getting any sleep is Wolfe.”

  “Probably the only one getting any action, too,” Griffin said.

  Brad glared. “Okay, there’s dark humor and then there’s that. That’s way too dark.”

  Griffin shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. See. I’m saying stupid stuff. We’re not functioning as well as we need to.”

  Brad did a U-turn and headed to Seventeenth Avenue. “I’m going home and getting five or six hours of sleep—if I can. Then I’ll take Lobo for a run and try to clear my head. I’ll meet you tonight at nine. Check and see if there’s anything new then head out.”

  “Sounds like a plan—my wife’s at work. The kids are in school. The house will be quiet. I got a bedroom set up in the basement. Cool, quiet, and dark during the day. I’m looking forward to that.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Wednesday Morning

  Brad and Lobo were returning from a run as Maggie arrived home. They walked into the house together. Maggie headed upstairs to change while Brad took Lobo to the kitchen for his breakfast.

  Maggie returned wearing flannel pajamas.

  “If you’re trying to turn me on you might want to rethink your sleepwear.”

  “After the night I had, sleep is the only thing on my mind.”

  “Well that hurts. And here I got all sweaty for you. How’s Sharma’s partner?”

  “He’s okay. On the way to the hospital he woke up and then vomited all over the ambulance and me.”

  “Yum. Do you want some breakfast?”

  “Maybe a banana and milk.”

  “Really?” Brad cringed. “After getting barfed on?”

  “Aw, does that make the tough cop nauseated?”

  “Shut up and eat your banana.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes.

  No time like the present, Brad thought. “I was wondering how long you plan on working?”

  Maggie looked up. “What?”

  “I was wondering, you know, how long you planned to stay on the street as a paramedic?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought five or six months would be good, but I guess until I don’t want to, or the baby says I can’t.”

  “After last night, you know, Sharma getting attacked and all. It could have been you.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  “If Wolfe attacked you, and if he figured out who you were, you wouldn’t have been as lucky as Sharma.”

  “There’re a lot of ifs in there. It wasn’t me. Wolfe didn’t attack me. The chances of that happening again are astronomical.”

  “But it could.”

  “I could get hit by lightning. I could get in an accident. I’m not going to live my life based on could.”

  “Wolfe is a real threat. He made threats to you after Lobo and I arrested him. I love your independence. I love how hard you work. I love how you are an excellent paramedic. But this time I insist. Until Wolfe is caught you can’t go back to work.”

  Maggie glared at Brad. “You insist?”

  “It’s the smart thing.”

  “Most of the time I like you being a gentleman. But today you’re taking it too far. You can’t tell me to quit work. It doesn’t work that way. I’m not some little girl you need to protect. I’ll know when the time is right to stop working. When that time comes, I’ll let you know.” She stood. “I’m tired. Good night.”

  Brad watched her walk away. He loved Maggie’s independence and toughness. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all in danger.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Friday Morning

  Wolfe woke early—the sun creeping over the horizon. Today was a special day. He set his duffel bag on the table and checked the contents. He’d used a lot of his supplies on the cop. Yesterday he’d stopped at the army surplus store and restocked, picking up a few extra items.

  The days with the cop had been the most exhilarating he’d ever had. She’d started defiant, but at the end, she was begging—not to be released, but to die. Wolfe had been more than willing to comply. He’d learned a lot torturing her, but that had been over days. He wouldn’t have that much time today. From that experience he knew how to get the best results in as little time as possible. Of course, the torture was second. That he’d have her every way possible came first. Thinking about it, that it would finally happen, had Wolfe aroused.

  The cops had been all over the southeast searching with no luck. When they found the blond cop, they’d do anything to capture him. It would only be a matter of time until they did. Today the plan was to go northwest, where she lived.

  The package should reach Coulter tomorrow. He’d lose his mind. Too bad Wolfe couldn’t see that. Even better would be the look on Coulte
r’s face when he found the bitch. No doubt the cops would swarm the bars and streets with Wolfe’s photo. Not that it would do much good. No one had seen him without the long hair and beard. It was like hiding in plain sight.

  He loaded the car, took one last look at the house that had served him so well, then drove away. He stopped at a 7-Eleven and bought three hotdogs and several packages of Polaroid film. It was a special day. Driving northwest, Wolfe was tempted to grab a beer from the twelve-pack in the back seat, but held off. Those were for the performance later today. He could wait.

  A few blocks from her house he stopped and bought a paper and a coffee. He parked at the other end of the crescent. The view wasn’t as good, but it was a new parking spot. It was a different car, too, so he wasn’t too worried about being spotted. A marked police cruiser and the Crown Victoria were parked out front.

  He sipped the coffee and ignored the paper. Heart beating rapidly, his breath came in gasps and his body shook. The anticipation was thrilling. Today was the day.

  Her front door opened—right on schedule. He grabbed the binoculars. She herded the kids out of the house and down the sidewalk. His breath caught. She wore a tank top, shorts, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Wolfe was on the verge of hyperventilating. His heart pounded in his ears. He set the binoculars down.

  Instead of heading to her car, she walked the kids to the Crown Victoria. The back door was held open by a big guy in a suit. She and the kids got in the back and the Crown Vic pulled away, the cruiser following behind.

  This was a little different, but if she stuck to her routine, she’d drop the kids at school and be back in fifteen to twenty minutes. Enough time to get set up.

  As soon as they were out of sight, Wolfe grabbed the duffel bag, slid out of the car, and hustled to the house. If anyone noticed, he’d look like he belonged. At a used-clothing store he’d found a jacket with the words, “Gas Company” on the back. He walked past the house and down the steep path to the backyard. Sliding doors would be easy to force open. He’d brought the right tools. He rounded the corner, glanced around and, seeing no one, stepped to the glass doors. He stopped. Heavy bars covered the glass, the doors held closed with a thick piece of metal. Wolfe could break the glass, but there was no way to get inside. It would take better tools and too much time to get into the house this way. He took the stairs up to the deck. He might be able to force the door there. Again, he stopped. No!