Kathryn's Justice

by Marianne Spitzer

  “So I’ve heard,” Kathryn said doing her best not to laugh. The thought of Coyle getting caught made her day. She had been on the receiving end of his advances a time or two. “Sounds like he had big plans, too bad.” Her broad smile crossed her face this time.

  “Yeah,” Rand said picking up his sandwich. “We planned on going to the gun show?”

  “Gun show? I didn’t know you were into guns.” She leaned closer to him.

  “I like to hunt with my dad and brothers, but Coyle has a collection of hand guns.” He leaned closer to her and whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but quite a few of them are unregistered.”

  “My lips are sealed,” she whispered back. “Why’s he going to a gun show? I picture him buying guns out of some guy’s trunk. He seems the type.”

  “He has in the past, but he ended up with a couple of crappy ones. If you’re lucky, you can find someone selling a handgun or two off the books at a big gun sale. I like to go along and see the newest hunting rifles. We drive down and back together, but I barely see him while we’re at the show. I never know what he’s up to when he’s off on his own.” Rand shrugged.

  Kathryn nodded pulling a piece of fruit off her fork and chewing. She looked into Rand’s eyes and smiled again. He smiled back. Another thought came to her mind.

  “Why does Coyle need a weekend to go to a gun show? Can’t he fit it into his work schedule?” She picked up another piece of fruit and ate it.

  “Nah, first off he likes to wander and take his time. Second, this particular show is across the state line. It’s one of the biggest they have within driving distance. He figured he’d be lucky. Now he’s stuck working.” He picked up his sandwich and took an enormous bite.

  Kathryn looked at him over the rim of her cup, “So you’re stuck going alone? Nice friend.”

  Rand held up his right index finger, chewed fast, swallowed, and said, “I’m not going. I’ll find something to do, and we’ll go to the next one. Hey, you wouldn’t like to catch a movie with me this weekend would you?”

  “That’d be nice, but my second cousin is getting married. She suckered me into being a bridesmaid.” She dropped her head and shook it amazed at how quickly she came up with a lie.

  “Maybe another time,” he said gathering his tray and standing. “Gotta run, don’t want to get back late.”

  Kathryn smiled and waved her fingers, “See ya.”

  She leaned back in her chair and watched a young woman and two small children visiting an elderly woman in the park.

  Gun show in another state. Hmm, that was easier than I thought. If Coyle hoped to find an unregistered gun, maybe I can, too. Looks like a run to the library later this week is in order. I need to know how to get to that gun show.

  Kathryn placed the tray on top of the stack of used trays and hummed to herself as she meandered back to the morgue. Doc was generous with lunch time and besides the car accident victims, the morning had been quiet.

  The afternoon was hectic and sad as two members of one family came to identify the victims of the morning’s accident. They were cousins and died on their way to a store they co-owned. Kathryn had steeled herself for their visit since she found it difficult to deal with the passing of young people close to her own age.

  ~ * ~

  The rest of the week was typical and fairly slow. Busy weeks passed quickly, but it also meant more people had passed on. Kathryn enjoyed the quiet of working as Dr. Graydor’s assistant, but her heart did go out to the deceased that arrived at the morgue. She was grateful there hadn’t been another accident involving young people. There was an excellent children’s hospital in the area, and they rarely saw a child unless they’d been killed outright in an accident. Seeing an injured child on the news or in the hospital distressed Kathryn. Worse, if one arrived at her morgue, it would nearly bring Kathryn to her knees.

  Joey Coyle was on his best behavior around Doc, but still made snarky comments when he was alone with Kathryn. She resisted the urge to threaten him with one of Doc’s scalpels. Coyle would think it was a joke and laugh at her. She was worried she might feel angry enough to carry through.

  Nick managed to find her during lunch twice. She steered the conversation clear of Coyle and Rand. No need to make him curious. He also asked her out to dinner and a movie.

  Do I have “single” etched on my forehead? What’s with all the date offers? Kathryn mused.

  When he looked at her with his big, soft brown puppy dog eyes she wondered if she should take him up on his offer of dinner or a movie.

  Hmm, maybe it could be fun. He certainly won’t discover my plans, and I should do something besides sit at home and plot.

  He smiled at her and cleared his throat. “I heard from Rand that you had a wedding and everything this weekend, but maybe we could catch a movie or dinner during the week.”

  “You guys discuss me?” She glared at him.

  “No, but he said he asked you out, but you had wedding plans. That’s all.” He smiled again.

  “I’m usually tired after a day at work,” she said. He dropped his eyes and fiddled with his silverware. “But, I’m free next weekend.”

  He looked up, a wide grin crossing his face. “Super, we can tighten the details next week. I gotta run before I’m late.”

  Kathryn watched Nick walk away admiring what she saw. “It could be fun.”

  Kathryn returned to the morgue busying herself with the details and work she needed to finish before her weekend would start. Gerald, one of the hospital’s custodians arrived and cleaned the floors until they shined. She was pleased with the clean morgue and her completed paperwork.

  She popped into Doc Graydor’s office.

  “Hi, I’m finished. Do you need anything else before I leave?” She asked the doctor who was sitting behind his desk reading a medical journal.

  He looked up and shook his head. “That’s it, Kathryn, have a great weekend. I’ll see you Monday.”

  “You, too,” she said as she hurried into the locker room. She quickly headed for the shower room and cleaned up. Wrapped in a clean towel, she returned to the locker room, changed back into her street clothes, and headed out the door that lead to a hall away from the morgue.

  She still hadn’t grocery shopped since it was a weekend chore. She ate a delicious dinner at one of her favorite diners and headed for the library.

  Chapter Four

  Kathryn stood and gazed around the library. It was quiet for early Friday evening. Kids were most likely preparing for a fun Friday night, and adults would be doing the same. She pushed the chair back under the computer desk and walked briskly to the self-checkout. To cover her use of the computer, she checked out two mystery novels she had been planning to read.

  She strolled to her car thinking checking out gun shows on the library computers is better than at home or work. The large gun show is my best bet. It’s over a four-hour drive, but I can make it down there when they open tomorrow if I leave early. Getting home is no problem. I can take my time and spend the night in a motel if needed. The website made the gun show sound exciting. Since I have never been to one, it’ll be a new experience.

  Kathryn purchased the gun she keeps at home for protection from a local gun store. It’s also where she goes to practice. The building is part of an industrial area and the location is ideal. The store and practice area in their basement are close enough for her to practice one or two evenings a week. The gun was a legal purchase and registered to her. She has a “conceal and carry” permit since she could be called out at any time of night to report to the hospital. However, they don’t allow guns in the hospital and she would never leave the gun unattended in her car. The permit gives her some peace of mind just in case an unexpected situation arises.

  ~ * ~

  Kathryn was awake before the sun. The coffee she set to start brewing when she woke was calling to her. She showered, pulled on nondescript jeans and a long sleeve navy top, poured coffee into a travel mug, grabbed a gra
nola bar, her purse, jacket, and headed out the door. She turned and hurried back to turn off the coffee maker. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she double checked to be sure she had the map she printed out at the library and the envelope of cash she needed to make her purchase.

  Heading west on the freeway, she hoped she would find the gun she needed. An hour later she exited the freeway and entered the state highway that would take her on her southwest trek across the state.

  The printed directions were perfect, and she pulled into the parking area. Kathryn was surprised by the amount of cars in the lot. She murmured, “This looks worse than Black Friday Christmas shopping at the mall.”

  She found a spot five rows from the front doors and parked. Her hand hesitated for a moment before she gripped the door handle. She took a deep breath and mumbled, “You can do this, Kathryn. You won’t stand out on any security camera. No one will remember you, and once you’re back home, justice can begin. A couple of weeks between this gun show and the next execution will ensure the police won’t connect them.”

  She strolled toward the front door trying to act casual as if she had been there many times before. She saw the ticket price before she arrived in front of the window. Geez, she thought, this is a gun show not the movies. She pulled out her money and bought a ticket. She stood behind several men while waiting to get inside. They were discussing guns, and she thought they were speaking a foreign language.

  You can do this, Kathryn. You need to make a purchase. Breathe, just breathe, she thought as she stepped up to the turnstile. A young man took her ticket and grabbed her hand stamping it with a blue rubber ink stamp. Looking at her hand and back at the young man, he smiled. “It’s just in case you have to leave. You can come back in without buying another ticket.” She nodded and smiled. He grinned back at her. She pushed the metal bar in front of her and walked into the expo hall.

  Kathryn stopped dead in her tracks. The hall was easily three times the size of any she had been in before at the fair back home. She fought the urge to run and looked at the vast space in front of her. She glanced down at the brochure she received with her ticket. It stated there would be over five-hundred tables. Many advertised as eight feet long.

  Kathryn bit her lip wondering what to do next. The aisles were wide. She gauged maybe ten feet, but most were full of people looking at guns, talking, laughing, and pointing at different areas of the hall. Many were filling out yellow forms. Background checks, she thought. I can’t do that. I need to find a gun for cash without paperwork. I don’t dare approach the professional dealers with all the forms they file away. No one can know who I am.

  She didn’t think she would find what she needed in the center of the hall along one of the huge tables. She began to meander down the right side of the hall. Walking along the back of the hall was as discouraging as the side aisle. Why did I come here? This is useless. I could try and buy one off the street if I were in a disguise. No, I could still end up in jail. Maybe I should spend the night in a local motel and stop by tomorrow morning. There might be different sellers.

  Kathryn had made up her mind to leave and began walking down the left side of the hall when a short table next to an exit door caught her eye. She moved closer. An elderly man behind the table was trying to convince a middle-aged man that the gun he was offering was a great deal. “Sure, it might be old, but it works great and you won’t find a better price.” The younger man shook his head and walked away.

  Kathryn heard the elderly man sigh. She walked up to his table. She smiled, and the man returned a warm smile. Kathryn swallowed and asked, “What are you selling?”

  “You’re looking for a gun alone? Most pretty ladies bring husbands or boyfriends.”

  Kathryn shrugged. “I don’t have either. My dad lives in Arizona, and he’s worried about me. There have been break-ins and physical attacks in my neighborhood, and he suggested I look for a gun. He said he’d feel better if I could protect myself.”

  “He tell you what to buy?” The man leaned forward looking directly into Kathryn’s eyes.

  “No, but I did some research on-line and a friend suggested I try to find something that fits my hand and isn’t too heavy. Also, it should be something that doesn’t kick too much or has a trigger that is too hard to pull. I have no idea how shaky I might be in that type of situation.” She glanced over her shoulder. “This place is so big that I’m getting confused.”

  “This one will fit your hand,” his elderly eyes took on a bright twinkle when he picked up the gun lying on the table between them. “It’s a Smith model 36, commonly known as a .38 Special. I don’t think the recoil will be too much for you.” He held out the gun. “Go ahead,” he said. “Take it.”

  She reached out and took the gun. She was used to firing them, but needed to keep up her inexperienced persona. Kathryn felt the gun in her hand and liked the feel. It would be perfect for her needs. She glanced at the elderly man and shrugged.

  “Is there a problem?” He asked looking at her over the top of his oblong lens glasses.

  “Well, the finish has rubbed off most of the gun.” She turned it around in her hands and looked at the man. “Are you sure it works?” She gripped the short gun butt again and said, “I’m not even sure I could pull the trigger. How do I know it will shoot if I need it?” She bit the right side of her lip and looked at the man again.

  He smiled at her again, and the twinkle returned to his blue-gray eyes. “I carried it and used it for a lot of years. I kept it clean inside and out. I needed to be sure it would shoot when I needed it and it will for you, too. I guarandamntee it.” He nodded.

  Kathryn shifted her weight from one leg to another while looking at the gun. “Well, I’m not sure.” She looked at the small price tag with $350 written in faded black ink. “How do I know I can pull the trigger?”

  He leaned across the table again and said, “I’ll take $300 for it and no paperwork. I’m not a dealer. I have three guns and times being what they are; I could use the cash more than the extra gun. It’s a fair price. Walk around a bit and see. You’ll come back, but I might sell it before you do.”

  Kathryn twisted her lip and smiled at him. “That sounds fair, but is there a way I can be sure I can pull the trigger without a bullet, of course, before I buy it? I need to be sure.”

  “Not in here.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Back door is that way. We can go outside, and I’ll snip the plastic tie off for you. You can give it a dry run.”

  Kathryn followed him out the back door. Dark rain clouds had filled the sky while she was wandering the hall. A chilly wind picked up, but the rain hadn’t begun to fall. They stood near the building under a light attached to the roof of the building. He snipped the tie off the gun with a small knife he pulled from his pocket. He handed the gun to Kathryn with the barrel open. “Here you go, check it out, close her up, and dry fire it. I think you’ll be fine, and it’ll work for what you need.”

  Kathryn snapped the five shot cylinder into place, aimed at a safe spot, and pulled the trigger. She was surprised it took more effort to pull the trigger than she expected.

  The old man searched her face and said, “The double action on these is heavy. Until you get used to it, cock the hammer and fire a single shot. You practice with it a few times, and it’ll get easier. It’s only a six pound pull. Even a little slip of a girl like you can handle it.”

  Kathryn did as he suggested and pulled the hammer back and fired. “You’re right. That makes a big difference.”

  He smiled.

  Kathryn looked him straight in the eye and asked one last time, “You promise this is going to work?”

  He raised his hands. “I’m an honest man and I’m not about to sell a gun to a nice lady for protection that isn’t going to work.”

  “$300 you said. Is there any paperwork? You need my ID or license?” Kathryn hoped he was telling the truth and didn’t want her name, or she’d have to walk away.

  “I don’t need anyth
ing but $300.”

  “Fifties work for you?” Kathryn asked.

  “They work just fine.”

  She pulled the bills from her purse and handed them to the man. He reached out and took them smiling. She slipped the gun in her purse and watched the man begin to walk away.

  He stopped and turned. “One last thing, you’ll need ammo. You can look here or wherever you want, but be sure to tell the seller the type of gun it is. Make sure you get hollow points and ones made for a snub-nose. Some others are made for the longer barrels. You’ll want to take care of those home invaders with one or two shots at most. A gun is no good if it doesn’t do what it’s meant to do.” He waved as he walked toward the parking lot.

  “Thanks for the help,” Kathryn called after him as she leaned up against the wall to settle her nerves. Taking a deep breath, she headed for her car and locked the gun in her trunk before returning to the hall to look for ammo.

  She smiled as she walked toward the front doors. “I did it,” she murmured. “I have a gun no one can trace back to me. Now to find the bullets and practice.”

  ~ * ~

  Kathryn walked back in the gun show’s main hall and did her best to paste a confused look on her face. She knew which ammunition she needed, but an innocent act would play much better. She spotted a table covered with boxes of ammunition. Her eyes scanned the boxes, and she spied half a box of the exact ammo she needed.

  She walked up and smiled at the young man behind the table. He appeared to be near her age, and it would help her be the innocent fawn.

  “Hi,” Kathryn said. “I wonder if you could help me.” She smiled a half-smile, and the man’s eyes brightened.

  “Sure, what do you need?” His eyes roamed over Kathryn as she searched through her purse.