Shane: (A McIntyre Security Bodyguard Novella - Book 2.5)

by April Wilson

  I glance at Jake just as he turns to face me. Even though the lights are off, there’s enough moonlight coming through the sheer white curtains that we can just see each other.

  Jake nods to me, then tells his team, “Radio silence.”

  Everyone’s in place. The bedroom door is shut and will stay that way until Kline opens it and walks through. The moment he steps into Beth’s bedroom with a loaded gun, he has committed a felony act of aggression, and I am clear to respond accordingly.

  The house is so quiet I can hear the ticking of the big grandfather clock downstairs in the front foyer. Soon, the silence is broken by the sound of footsteps on the creaky wooden staircase. A few moments later, I can hear his muffled footfalls on the narrow carpet runner as he slowly makes his way down the hallway. He makes painstakingly slow progress, and I assume he’s checking the other two bedrooms and the bathroom first, to make sure there’s no one else in the house.

  Slowly, the steps continue toward our end of the hallway. There’s a moment of silence, then I hear the brass doorknob turn. The mahogany door swings slowly open on squeaky hinges, the sound jarring in the quiet house.

  Fading back into the shadows as Kline enters the room, I study him for a split second. I’ve seen his picture a thousand times, committed his features to memory so there could never be any mistake. Five-foot-ten, two hundred and forty pounds, a balding head, dark eyes that are bloodshot and watery, a flabby face with a sallow complexion and a perpetual five o’clock shadow.

  Kline sets his duffle bag on the floor, then pulls a black handgun out of his coat pocket, aiming the muzzle at the bed where Caroline lies perfectly still beneath the quilt. The gun has a silencer. Kline’s hand is shaking, and his thick index finger hovers over the trigger. Still, I can see that the safety is on.

  His sense of triumph is palpable, and he chuckles as he fixates on the mound beneath the quilt. “You stupid little cunt.” His voice is low and hoarse as he points his gun at the bed. “I spent eighteen years in hell because of you! You owe me!”

  The thought that this pathetic excuse for a human being thinks Beth owes him anything makes me sick. I feel nothing but revulsion in my gut, and certainly no remorse for what I’m about to do.

  My Beretta 9 mm feels solid and familiar in my hand, like an old friend. There’s a round in the chamber, and the silencer is on. I’m just waiting for my cue. And Kline gives it to me a moment later when he flips off the safety on his gun. Everything after that happens in a flurry. I step out of the shadows and raise my gun. He turns to face me, startled and confused. His stunned expression would be almost comical if the situation weren’t so serious.

  Kline opens his mouth, but before he can utter a sound, I fire, hitting him right between the eyes. His wide, unseeing eyes remain locked on me as his knees buckle and he drops to the floor like a stone. His handgun slips from his fingers and strikes the wooden floor with a dull thud.

  “He’s down!” Jake says. Jake’s across the room in a flash, crouching down beside the body to check for a pulse. “The target is down,” he says calmly into the comm system. “I repeat, the target is down.”

  A moment later, Killian and Cameron are in the bedroom with us, one of them flipping on the overhead ceiling light. Caroline sits up, shoving the quilt aside as she climbs out of bed.

  I step forward to examine Kline’s body myself. There can’t be any mistake. There’s no detectable pulse, no breath. He’s gone. I nod to my brother. “He’s dead, Jake. Make the call.”

  I remove my Kevlar vest and head straight for the closet door, slowly opening it. “Beth, honey, it’s me. I’m coming in.”

  Beth raises her hands to shield her tear-filled eyes from the bright light. I holster my gun as I scan her quickly to make sure she’s all right. Then I step inside and close the door partway behind me to block some of the light. “It’s done, sweetheart. It’s over.”

  Beth clambers to her feet and rushes into my arms, shaking, her face wet with tears. She’s still holding the rescue inhaler I’d left with her, and I take it from her trembling hand and stow it in my jacket pocket.

  Feeling overwhelmed with relief that Kline is dead and Beth is safe, I squeeze her tightly in my arms. “It’s all right now,” I murmur into her hair. “Everything’s all right.”

  “Was that Kline?” she says. “Is he dead?”

  I nod as I remove her armored vest. “He’s dead. He’ll never threaten you again.”

  Beth glances up at me, studying me. “Is everything okay?”

  Everything’s fine. But right now I just want to get Beth downstairs and away from Kline’s body. I don’t want her to see the corpse lying on her old bedroom floor, or the pool of blood that’s spreading out from beneath his head. And I certainly don’t want her to see the hole I put dead center of his forehead.

  I wrap my arm around her, hoping to steer her directly out of the closet and out the bedroom door. “Fine. I’m going to take you downstairs now. You can wait with me until the police arrive.”

  But unfortunately, Beth has other plans. “I want to see Kline,” she says. “I want to see his body.”

  She starts for the closet door, but I stop her. “Beth, there’s no need–”

  “I need to see his body. I need to see with my own eyes that he’s dead.”

  “Beth–”

  She brushes past me, determined to do this, but stops abruptly as she steps into the bedroom. Just a few feet from the closet is where Kline’s body lies on the floor, a dark pool of blood staining the wooden floors beneath him.

  Beth glances at Jake, who’s standing guard over the body. Then she looks down at Kline’s face and shudders. She steps closer, her eyes going to the widening pool of blood. When she sees Kline’s discarded gun on the floor, she stiffens.

  “He could have been a free man,” she says in a quiet voice. “He could have just walked away.”

  I gently place my hands on her arms and pull her back against my chest. “He made his choice,” I say. “Now let’s go downstairs and wait for the police. You don’t need to see this.”

  Beth shudders at the mention of the police.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “Everything’s going to be fine.” As I’m stroking her arms in an attempt to comfort her, I realize she’s crying. “Please don’t cry.” I can’t bear it when she cries. When her tears turn into sobs, I quietly lead her out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

  The Authorities

  I escort Beth downstairs to the front parlor and sit her down on the sofa. She hasn’t said a word, and I’m pretty sure she’s in shock. I’m trying to play it calm and cool, hoping to reassure her. But the truth is, anything can happen at this point. Jake called 911. Now we wait for the cops to show up and process the scene.

  I put my arm around Beth and draw her close. She leans into me and takes hold of my hand, clutching it tightly in her lap. I kiss the top of her head. “It’ll be all right, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” God, I hope that’s the case. If this goes south, Beth will be devastated.

  Cooper lets himself in through the front door with his key and pauses in the foyer. We exchange glances through the open foyer door, then he looks up the staircase, trying to make sense of the muffled voices coming from upstairs.

  He glances back at me, his expression somber. “Do you want me to call Troy?”

  I shake my head, not willing to admit I might need my attorney to bail me out. “Not yet. Let’s see how this plays out. If there’s a complication, call him.”

  A complication? In other words, if I find myself under arrest. But I hope it doesn’t come to that. I promised Beth it wouldn’t.

  Beth makes a pained sound, and I tighten my hold on her, pressing my lips to her hair. “Relax, honey.”

  “Don’t worry, Beth,” Cooper says from the foyer. He peers through one of the sidelites beside the big mahogany front door as he watches for the cops to arrive. “What Shane did is perfectly lawful,” he continues. “Kline committed a felony
by breaking into your home. Armed. Shane faced the threat of imminent death or great bodily injury. He’s in the clear. They’ll question him, but they won’t arrest him.”

  The front of the house is lit up suddenly with flashing lights from multiple patrol cars. I take a deep breath and steel myself for whatever’s about to come next. Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to shield Beth from the fallout.

  Cooper looks at me. “Shane, they’re here.”

  I kiss Beth’s temple, then rise from the sofa. “Cooper, come sit with Beth.” I don’t want her to be alone in this.

  I walk to the foyer as Cooper opens the front door and admits three uniformed police officers. One of the officers has his hand on the butt of his gun.

  “Hello, officers,” I say in greeting, my voice low.

  “We have reports of a deceased individual at this address,” one of them says, his gaze sweeping the foyer and front room.

  I nod. “Upstairs, in the back bedroom. An armed male broke into my girlfriend’s home and entered her bedroom. His name is Howard Kline. He’s a convicted felon. He walked into Beth’s bedroom and pointed a gun at her bed. I shot him before he could fire a shot. My brother’s up there now with the body.”

  One of the officers races up the stairs, while the other two start taking down my statement and making notes. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Cooper puts his arm around Beth, probably in an attempt to keep her from coming over here. My darling girl can be rather persistent.

  I answer all their initial questions... giving them my name, address, occupation, my relationship with Beth, and so forth. Just the basics, it’s pretty much standard procedure. So far, so good. If we can get through all of this without any hitches, there’s a chance I’ll be able to take Beth home to our apartment soon.

  I’m in the middle of answering some final questions when I see a black pick-up truck pull to an erratic stop at the curb in front of the townhouse. Shit. Well, here’s our complication. I’d recognize that truck anywhere.

  Tyler Jamison, Beth’s older brother – her very protective older brother who just happens to be a Chicago homicide detective – jumps out of the truck and races up the front walk and in through the open door.

  The cops wave Tyler in – obviously, they know him.

  Tyler must have been off duty, as he’s dressed in sweats and a police department T-shirt. His detective’s badge is pinned to the waistband of his sweats. How in the hell did he hear about the shooting so fast?

  Tyler wastes no time getting right in my face. “Is she here? Where is she?”

  I tip my head in Beth’s direction, even as I’m still answering the patrol officer’s questions.

  Tyler assesses Beth with a quick glance, assuring himself she’s unharmed, then he lunges at me with no warning, grabbing me by the front of my shirt and slamming me hard into the foyer wall, hard enough to make my head bounce off the hard plaster.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” he growls, grimacing at me as he wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes, effectively cutting off my air. His face is flushed, and every muscle in his body is taut as he holds me pinned to the wall. “You God damned son of a bitch! She could have been killed!”

  I keep my gaze focused on Tyler until I hear Beth’s frantic voice.

  “Tyler, stop!” she yells.

  My gaze shoots to her just as Cooper grabs her and hauls her back down beside him on the sofa, wrapping his arms around her and holding her there.

  I grab Tyler’s wrists and pry them off my throat. Tyler pulls free and slams his fist into my face, knocking my head back into the wall, hard enough to crack the plaster. Beth is screaming in the background as I shake my head in an attempt to clear my vision. I can feel warm blood streaming from my nose and down my chin. Furious, I channel all my frustration into Tyler, charging into him and pushing him across the hall into the opposite wall. I drive my fist into his abdomen, knocking the breath out of him, and he doubles over, gasping. I catch him in the face with a sharp blow from my elbow, snapping his head back.

  As we’re grappling with each other, both of us manage to get in a few good blows before the two cops jump into the fray, hauling me off Tyler. The bigger of the two officers slams me face first into the wall, his hand around the back of my neck to hold me in place while the other officer grabs my right arm and wrenches it up high behind my back. I feel the cold, heavy metal of a handcuff tightening on my right wrist. My chest is heaving, and I have to lean into the wall for support as the cop brings up my other wrist and locks it in the cuff.

  Heavy footsteps come pounding down the wooden staircase, and I glance up to see Jake.

  “Fuck,” he says, looking first at me, then at Tyler, who’s still trying to catch his breath.

  “Stay with the body!” I tell Jake, who nods curtly and heads back up the stairs.

  Tyler’s face is flushed as he glares at me. “What the fuck were you thinking, Shane?”

  I know I have to be a bloody mess. My bottom lip is throbbing, and I can taste blood in my mouth. Tyler doesn’t look so hot either. His nose is bleeding profusely now, and there’s blood at the corner of his mouth.

  “I did what had to be done,” I hiss at him through clenched teeth.

  Beth careens into my side, nearly knocking me off balance, and grabs one of my arms. Her eyes are swimming in tears.

  One of the officers grabs Beth and tries to pry her off me. “Miss –”

  “Get her back, Cooper!” I shout, my voice hoarse.

  Tyler’s across the foyer, leaning against the wall. “Arrest him,” he says to the officers.

  Shit, this is going south quickly.

  The officer holding me against the wall starts reading me my rights. “You have the right to remain silent,” he says. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

  “No!” Beth cries. She looks frantic, and she’s breathing fast – too fast. She’s heading right into an asthma attack. Cooper catches her just as she starts swaying.

  “Get her inhaler!” I tell him. “It’s in my jacket pocket.”

  Tyler beats him to it, reaching inside my jacket to pull out Beth’s inhaler. He shakes it and puts it to her mouth. “Breathe in, Beth,” he says, as he administers the medication. “It’s okay, kiddo. Just breathe.”

  This is all my fault. I never wanted this to happen – I never wanted her to see anything like this. “Beth – Jesus, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

  Beth turns to face her brother, and she looks devastated. “Tyler, please. Don’t let them take him.”

  Tyler looks away, avoiding both Beth’s gaze and mine. “Take him to the local precinct,” he tells the officers. “I’ll be along shortly, after I see to my sister.”

  “On what charges?” she demands.

  “Assaulting a police officer,” Tyler says, looking belligerent.

  Tyler walks Beth into the parlor, and he sits down beside her on the sofa. She tries to lunge to her feet, but Tyler catches her and makes her sit back down beside him. “Sit down, Beth, before you fall down.”

  I have to crane my head back to see her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Everything will be fine,” I say, trying my best to sound confident. Then I turn to Cooper. “I guess you’d better call Troy.”

  The two officers march me out to one of the patrol cars. The situation is unreal, strobe lights flashing brightly, lighting up half the neighborhood, bathing the front of the townhouse in bursts of light. I notice more than a few neighbors venturing out of their homes to watch.

  When we reach the patrol car, one of the officers pushes me against the side of the vehicle and holds me there by my arm while the other one searches me, systematically patting me down from shoulder to ankle, confiscating my wallet, the Beretta and extra clip from my chest holster, my phone, and the small knife I’ve got hidden in a calf holster beneath my slacks.

  While the officer is frisking me, I glance back to see Beth watching from the front window, looking absolutely
heartbroken. Tyler stands behind her, his hands on her shoulders.

  I don’t think the guy realizes the damage he’s done to his sister.

  Hauled Off Like a Common Criminal

  I’ve gotten in trouble with the law before – but not since I was a teenager and got pulled over for drag racing with my brothers out in the country. But even then, I got off with a stern warning. I’ve never been handcuffed in the back seat of a squad car before.

  It’s impossible to get comfortable in the rear seat of a police cruiser – they’re designed for containment, not for aesthetics. My arms are wrenched behind my back, my wrists cuffed, making the seating arrangements challenging.

  The charge against me is bogus, of course. Tyler came at me first, and there are plenty of witnesses. I was just defending myself. That will be easy to argue in court, should it come to that, but I’m hoping it won’t. I’m hoping Tyler will come to his senses sooner rather than later.

  I just have to be patient and go through the motions until Tyler feels like he’s gotten his pound of flesh. The problem is, I don’t know if Tyler will try to replace the assault charge with something a little more serious – something a little harder to shake – like manslaughter, or even homicide. But I honestly can’t believe he’d do something like that to Beth – surely he realizes she’d never forgive him. Besides, Tyler wanted Kline permanently out of the picture just as much as I did.

  I can’t stop thinking about Beth and what she’s going through right now. She’s got to be absolutely terrified. First, seeing Kline’s dead body in her old bedroom, and then seeing Tyler and me going at it. Cooper will take her back to our penthouse, and he’ll stay with her until I get home. I know she’s in good hands, but I hate not being the one to comfort her. I could wring Tyler’s neck for doing this. In his blinding rage at me, he’s not thinking straight.

  We arrive at the precinct, and the arresting officer opens the rear door for me and I duck my head as I awkwardly climb out of the car. He walks me through a side entrance, directing me to the booking room to the right, where I’m instructed to remove my Rolex, belt, and shoes, which are confiscated along with the rest of my personal property. Then I’m patted down by the arresting officer once more, and all my pockets are checked for contraband.