The Game of Life or Death: A Detective Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers (The Jacob Hayden Series Book 3)

by Prandy, Charles

  “Approach beautiful women in the middle of the grocery store to ask them their name.”

  Pat nodded, “I see.”

  “I could be wrong, but for a second there I thought maybe we had a moment.”

  “Moment?”

  “Yeah, like they do in the movies. A guy and a girl make eye contact, and then they’re suddenly basking in each other’s arms, spinning around in circles on the beach or in a field somewhere.”

  “So you think we had one of those moments?”

  The guy shrugged, “Yeah.”

  “And you think we’re going to start spinning in each other’s arms somewhere basking in each other’s glow?”

  The guy laughed. “Well, that all depends.”

  “On?”

  “If you tell me your name.”

  Pat looked at him for a moment. Is this man charming? Yes. Is he attractive? Double yes. Is he worth a possible headache? She quickly looked him up and down, and definitely said to herself, yes.

  “Patricia,” she said, extending her hand. “But everyone calls me Pat.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Tim, and everyone just calls me Tim.”

  They both laughed and talked and laughed some more. When Pat looked at her watch, she realized that nearly a half an hour had gone by.

  “Oh, wow, look at the time,” she said. “It’s been great talking to you, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got some things to tend to myself. But … if you’re up to it, there’s a band playing across the street on Thursday night that I think you might enjoy.”

  “I don’t know. Gotta check my schedule.”

  Tim smiled. “Okay, no pressure. But I’ll be there if you find out that you’re free.”

  Pat smiled. “Okay. Maybe I’ll look for you if I can make it.”

  They waved bye to each other and then went in opposite directions. When Pat got to her car, she looked at herself in the mirror.

  “Don’t be stupid,” she said to herself.

  Then she drove off, heading back to the station.

  Nine

  I tried Rule’s number again, and again the call went straight to voicemail. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t worried about whether he was alive or dead. Given what happened to his family, he very well could have met a similar fate. My hands slightly shook as they gripped the steering wheel. I had that jittery feeling flowing through my body that people get when they’re overly anxious.

  I had the flashing police light lit up. Rule lived in an apartment complex a few miles away from Dennis’s office. I drove through red lights. I weaved in between cars that were moving too slowly. Curiosity and fear were getting the best of me. All I could see was Dennis’s body hanging from his living room ceiling with distress marked all over his face. I didn’t want to enter Rule’s apartment and witness the same thing again. But what if I did? Could I handle seeing one of my best friends in that way? I wasn’t sure.

  I finally reached Rule’s building. He only lived ten minutes away, but it felt like ten hours. I hurried to the front door. To the right of the door were buttons to every apartment in the building. I found Rule’s apartment number and pushed the button. I wanted to hear his voice over the intercom, but nothing happened. I pushed again, hoping that maybe he was in the bathroom or something. I waited a few minutes and still nothing.

  I decided to push the other buttons hoping that someone would open the door, but no one answered. It was the middle of the day and assumedly everyone was at work. I reached for my phone and was about to call the property management company whose information was listed next to the buttons when a young woman who looked to be in her twenties came out. She was on her phone and didn’t pay me any attention. When she walked by, I entered the lobby and quickly reached the elevator. Rule lived on the fifth floor. The elevator seemed like it was in slow motion; like it was crawling up the building. When the doors finally opened, I stepped out and walked fast to Rule’s door. He lived in apartment number fourteen, and the door was slightly opened.

  “Shit.”

  I pulled out my sidearm and briefly closed my eyes, hoping that I wasn’t going to find Rule hanging on the other side of the door.

  With my left foot, I slowly pushed the door open and quickly peeked around the corner. No one was hanging, but the apartment was in shambles. I raised my gun and slowly entered the living room. Furniture was tossed around. Paintings that had been hanging on the wall were on the floor.

  I cleared the room and then went into the kitchen. It was more of the same. When I came out of the kitchen, I looked across the living room to Rule’s bedroom and saw that the door was closed. My heart hammered, beating even quicker than it already had been. I took in a slow breath as I made my way across the living room. My gun was aimed. When I got to the door, I reached for the knob and turned it slowly. The door opened with a slight creak, and lying on the bed was a dead woman. I’d seen her before with Rule. She wasn’t a girlfriend, but they were dating. I entered the room and cleared the en suite before moving to the dead woman.

  I put my gun back in its holster and walked closer to the bed. The woman’s name was Sonya, and from the few times I’d met her I remembered that she had an outgoing personality, which was good for Rule because he was an introvert. I looked at Sonya’s body and saw that a belt was wrapped around her neck. I could only assume that the same people who killed Dennis and his family also killed Sonya. And judging by the way the apartment had been torn into shreds, they were looking for something very important.

  I dug into my pocket for my cell phone. I punched in 9-1-1 and brought the phone to my ear. My back was to the bedroom door. The operator came on asking what the emergency was. As I was about to give my name, the bedroom door creaked. I turned around and saw a big white fist flying toward me. I dropped the phone and was caught square across my left cheek. My head rocked and I went down hard. I was close to losing consciousness, but somehow was able to keep my eyes open. That was until a boot seemingly came out of nowhere and ended any hope I had of staying conscious.

  Ten

  When I opened my eyes, a cold face was pressed against mine. It took me a second to realize that the face was Sonya’s, the dead girl from the bed. Only she wasn’t on the bed. She was on top of me. Not only was she on top of me, but so was the mattress from the bed. I tried to raise my arms but quickly realized that my hands were bound together in front of me. With the dead girl’s weight on top of me, as well as the mattress, it was hard to move.

  I turned my head enough to look up and saw that I was lying on the floor next to Rule’s dresser. My face hurt. I was sure it was swollen. I wiggled a little and was able to move just enough that I could use my arms to slowly push myself out from underneath Sonya and the mattress. By the time I was done, I felt like I’d bench pressed two hundred pounds.

  I sat up and looked around. The room was trashed, like the rest of the apartment. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out, but it was obviously long enough for someone to tear up the room. Then it dawned on me that I might not be alone in the apartment.

  My hands were bound with a string that wasn’t too durable. I was able to unbind them in a matter of minutes. I stood up and reached for my sidearm but quickly realized that it wasn’t there.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  Did it fall out?

  I quietly raised the mattress, looked around where I had been lying, and didn’t see it. I looked around the room, trying to see if I could find anything that I could use as a weapon. The only thing I saw was a stainless steel lamp about two feet in height that was lying on the floor. I quickly picked it up and unscrewed the lamp shade. I held the lamp in my hands like a batter ready to knock the ball out of the park.

  I stood near the entrance of the bedroom and listened. I didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean that I was alone. I cleared the apartment earlier and still was hit from behind. So I peeked around the corner. No one was in the living room. I slowly crept ou
t of the bedroom, looking at every surface I could see. I was ready to swing the lamp in my hands if need be.

  I tried to calm my breathing. I was anxious and didn’t want to swing at the first sign of movement, but I also didn’t want to hesitate because hesitation could cost me my life.

  The living room was empty of any other people. From where I stood, I saw that the kitchen was empty as well. The front door had been closed, which meant that whoever hit me had probably left. I locked the front door to make sure that no one else came in. I reached for my cell phone but realized that it wasn’t on me either. I remembered that before I got hit I’d dropped it. I went back into the bedroom and found my phone and called for backup.

  Eleven

  Within ten minutes, the apartment was filled with D.C. metro police and the building was locked down. No one other than police personnel were able to get in or out. I held an ice pack over my left cheek as I walked Pat and Detective Brian Torrez, another detective from my group, through what happened.

  “If you cleared the apartment,” Detective Torrez said, “whoever hit you could have been hiding in the hallway. You said that the front door was open?”

  “Yeah, and I didn’t close it behind me.”

  “How would they have known you were coming over here?” Pat asked.

  “Good question.” I said.

  “Do you think you had a tail?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I honestly wasn’t paying attention.”

  “That might explain it then,” Torrez said. “The Rules’ house was torn upside down. This apartment has been torn upside down. Whoever these people are, they’re looking for something. Maybe they’re looking for Rule. Maybe they think you know where he is because of your friendship. The way the family was killed leads one to think that it wasn’t random. So they put a tail on you, and when they see you coming here, they notify whoever’s up here that you’re coming.”

  I shrugged, “That’s logical.”

  “And that could be why you’re still alive, my friend,” Torrez said. “They think that you know where Rule is.”

  I thought about what Betsy Miller said, that Dennis had told Rule something important. That he was finally happy that he didn’t have any more secrets. What were you hiding, Dennis?

  “Okay,” I said. “Put a tail on me. If I’m being followed then we need to know who’s following me. The neighbors said they saw a white Lexus in the driveway last night, so keep an eye out for that.”

  I gave Pat the names of a couple of employees who left the Cardinal Rule firm within the past year to check out.

  “I’ll tail you,” Torrez said. “We should drive around the city for a bit to see who’s following.”

  I nodded. “Let’s go then.”

  Twelve

  I left the apartment building first. Torrez, a few minutes after me. We figured that if I had a tail, whoever was following me wouldn’t wait around until Torrez left too. So I got into my car and called Torrez’s phone, leaving mine on speaker. I placed my phone in the cup holder so that the tail wouldn’t see that I was talking to someone.

  The street in front of the apartment building was taped off. No one outside of police personnel was admitted. So at least I knew that my potential tail wouldn’t be one of the cars in front of the building. I pulled from the curb and started my route. I checked the rearview mirror and didn’t notice anyone following behind. I drove for about a mile and then turned left. Still no one.

  “Either my tail is driving in an invisible car or I don’t have one,” I said.

  “Copy that,” Torrez responded, “I haven’t been able to spot one either.”

  “Imma turn right at the next light. I’ll drive for a little longer before we call it quits.”

  “Okay. I’ll fall a little farther behind just in case.”

  I turned right and looked into my rearview mirror and still didn’t see anyone noticeably following.

  “Good theory, Torrez, but no one’s following.”

  “Copy that. Maybe it was just a fluke that you were at the apartment at the same time as the killers.”

  I glanced at the rearview mirror again. Could it really be a coincidence? My mind’s eye traced back my route from the Cardinal Rule office to Rule’s apartment. I wasn’t looking for a tail, but I remembered cars that were in my rearview mirror. It’s one of the few things I do well. Some people have photographic memories in which they can see something once and remember every detail about what they saw. My memory isn’t that detailed, but I’m usually good at remembering something that my eyes have taken in. So I started scanning the images in my head. I couldn’t tell you how many times people glance in their rearview mirrors while they drive, but I’d have to think it’s a lot.

  I know for sure that I didn’t see a white Lexus following me. Even though I wasn’t looking for a tail, knowing that a witness saw a white Lexus in the Rule’s driveway would have caused me to take a double look. I remembered seeing a black Chevy Camaro behind me at one point. The driver was a young blond woman wearing dark sunglasses. I remember seeing a blue Jeep Wrangler with the top off. The driver was a young Hispanic man wearing a white tank top. I remember thinking the guy must be crazy because it was like ninety-five degrees outside and, without the top, I was sure his skin was getting baked by the sun.

  Then my mind’s eye stopped on a black SUV just past the Jeep that had been behind several different cars for a few miles. I couldn’t tell who was driving, but I definitely remembered the black SUV. Specifically, the vehicle was a black Lincoln Navigator. I could see it in my mind as clear as if I were looking at it in real time. Could it have been following me? As I remembered the cars behind me, the Lincoln was the only constant that I recalled.

  I looked in my rearview mirror again. I didn’t see Torrez, but more importantly I didn’t see the black Lincoln.

  “You still there, Torrez?”

  “Copy that. I’m still here.”

  “Keep your eyes out for a late model black Lincoln Navigator. I think I may have seen it behind me earlier in the day.”

  There was a pause and then Torrez said, “Did it have a chrome grill?”

  “I believe so, why?”

  “Because it’s not only following you, but me as well.”

  Thirteen

  The Russian driving the black Lincoln Navigator sensed the trap from a mile away. He was sitting in his car two blocks away when the detective came out of the apartment building. He placed a pair of small binoculars over his eyes and noticed that the detective was curiously looking around the area. Not the same way a guy looks around when he’s casually walking to his car. The detective was looking for something, or more importantly, someone.

  The Russian’s first thought was, Could I have been spotted? He didn’t think so. He’d been careful to drive four cars behind the detective. His former career with the Russian police had taught him how to tail someone without being noticed. He kept his speed low. He drove behind another vehicle that was nearly the same size as his. So he didn’t believe that he was spotted. Then what was the detective looking for? He’d just been blindsided in the apartment and knocked unconscious, so maybe it was just human nature for the detective to be more alert. Maybe the Russian would have believed that, if it weren’t for the other detective who came out of the building a few minutes later with the same curiosity in his eyes.

  So the Russian decided to follow the second detective. He followed the second detective in the same way, only this time he knew something was going on. The second detective drove the same routes as the first detective, only he kept his distance by about two hundred yards.

  The Russian picked up his phone and quickly dialed a number. A male with a deep, hoarse voice answered and spoke in Russian.

  “Yes.”

  The Russian responded in his native tongue. “We’ve got a problem.”

  “What is it?”

  “The detective knows he’s being followed.”

  The man on the
other ended paused. “Where are you?”

  The Russian gave his coordinates.

  “Back off. I will send Viktor.”

  The man on the other end hung up without saying another word. The Russian placed the phone on the console and put on his right blinker. He was getting ready to turn from the route when he saw red and blue flashing lights behind him.

  Fourteen

  The Russian looked in the rearview mirror and saw the D.C. police car behind him. He cursed himself for not being more aware that a cop was behind him. He immediately looked ahead and saw that the second detective’s car was pulling over about a hundred yards ahead of him. So, they did spot me, he thought.

  The Russian applied the brakes and slowed. His mind raced through a couple different scenarios. He knew he couldn’t outrun the police because he was new to the city and didn’t know it well. But he also knew that if he got detained, regardless of what happened, he’d be killed once he was released.

  He allowed the Lincoln to come to a full stop. If Viktor was being sent, the Russian thought, then Viktor must not be far. Maybe he was already watching. If that was the case, then the Russian knew that he was already dead.

  He looked in his rearview mirror and saw the driver’s door of the police car open. The Russian casually opened the center console and pulled out a Makarov PM semi-automatic handgun. He held it in his right hand, lowering it toward his right leg so that the weapon was hidden. He pressed the button on the door, and the window slid down at the same time that the cop showed up.

  “Afternoon, sir,” the officer said.

  “Afternoon.”

  “Mind stepping out of the car for me?”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  The officer took a step back and placed his right hand near his sidearm.

  “Please step out of the car, sir.”

  The Russian quickly glanced ahead and saw that the second detective had already gotten out of his car and was walking back toward them.