The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart

by Remington Kane

  166

  Nosy, Nosy

  Dean and Amy moved about Ridge Creek on a spending spree, as they enjoyed their new wealth.

  Amy bought clothes and perfume, while Dean went wild in the comic shop and bought an expensive game system.

  Dean’s purchases would be kept at Amy’s house. Otherwise, his foster parents would become suspicious if they became aware of his new belongings. They would also likely confiscate anything of value and sell it at the church flea market.

  The people who had taken him in after his only parent, his father, died were good people overall. However, Dean was certain that they looked after him and the other three foster kids they had more for the money the state paid them, rather than out of the goodness of their hearts.

  Still, they kept him fed and treated him with respect, but Dean felt more like a pet than a member of a family. When he turned eighteen, a date that was just weeks away, he was going to move out.

  Where he was going to move to and how he was going to pay for it were questions he hadn’t yet answered, but with the money they’d taken from the bank robbers, his and Amy’s future was secure.

  Amy had turned eighteen a month earlier. They would soon both be adults and able to do and go where they pleased.

  Their spending spree did not go unnoticed.

  Mrs. Doris James, a lifelong resident of Ridge Creek and the town’s main gossip, happened to be in line behind the kids at the local Mega Drugstore. When Dean bought the costly game system, she wondered where a boy like Dean had acquired the funds.

  When the young couple left the store, Mrs. James followed them. Her eyebrows went up when the kids entered the jewelry store.

  Mrs. James went inside the coffee shop across the way and settled in at a table by the window. She had braved the rainstorm because her husband had a bad case of diarrhea and she went out to the drugstore to get something for him.

  Mr. James would just have to stay perched atop the toilet for a while longer, because Mrs. James knew mischief when she saw it. Amy and Dean were up to something, she just knew it.

  She sipped her coffee, took a bite of her glazed donut, and waited to see where Dean and Amy went to next.

  Cameron Ryder was only a few miles from Ridge Creek, when she got the call from Bobby telling her that the chief there was holding two suspects in the bank robbery, a man and a woman.

  She pointed her pickup truck in that direction and wondered if she would soon see the face of the woman who had murdered her brother.

  As she drove along, she thought about her younger brother and realized that she was now all alone.

  Her mother had passed away when Michael was only six. While her father spent long hours trying to keep the family hardware store afloat, fourteen-year-old Cameron had practically raised Michael.

  Six years later, when her father died in a hit and run accident, Cameron became more of a parent than a sister to the boy. Luckily for her, Michael had been a good kid, and Cameron had felt pride as she watched him excel academically, and later go on to have success as a financial advisor.

  It seemed inconceivable to her that he was gone, just wiped off the planet by the whim of a madwoman.

  When the first tremor came, Cameron barely noticed it, as she was lost amid grief, but then came the second jolt, followed by a lurching sensation. Cameron realized that the front end of her truck was sitting higher, as if she were climbing a hill.

  “What the…?”

  She had been driving over the flat surface of a one-lane bridge, the North Street Bridge, whose other side was the border of Ridge Creek. Cameron looked in her rearview mirror and saw that the car behind her was slamming on its brakes. The hard stop made the vehicle go sideways and it slammed into the metal guardrail.

  Cameron looked away from the mirror, saw the jagged edge of crumbling roadway rising in front of her and realized that the bridge was coming apart.

  She instinctively touched the brake pedal, and yet, in the instant it took to perform that action, she realized she’d never stop in time to keep from driving off the edge.

  She moved her foot onto the gas and pressed down hard. There was a gap in the road ahead; the broken roadway in front of her proclaimed that, but what she didn’t know was how wide the gap was. In any event, the more speed the better.

  When the truck’s front wheels left the roadway and spun in empty space, Cameron screamed.

  167

  Caged

  Chief McCoy placed Sara and Tanner in side-by-side cells that were only separated by shared metal bars.

  The cells sat twenty feet away from the chief’s scarred wooden desk, and their back wall was the rear brick wall of the small building. The chief was near the front door and Lydia’s desk was over on the right by a rack of shelves that held forms, along with several miscellaneous items.

  There were only three cells, each with a sink, a toilet, and a cot. Sara had been placed in the center one, while Tanner was on the right.

  Tanner lay back on the cell’s thin mattress and rested, gathering his strength, while Sara spent her time trying to convince the chief and his deputy of her innocence.

  “I’m no damn bank robber. I’m a former FBI agent.”

  McCoy leaned back in his chair. “If that’s true, you’ll soon have a reunion with your fellow agents. They’re on their way here to talk to you.”

  “This man, his name is Tanner and he’s a paid killer, but earlier, the two of us were being chased by a man and woman. I believe they’re the people you’re searching for.”

  Lydia laughed. “Let me get this straight. You say you’re an FBI agent, he’s a hit man, and you just happened to have been chased by two bank robbers? And here I thought this was a quiet little town.”

  “Check the farm, the one over at the other end of the road you found us on. That’s where you’ll find the people you want… along with a dead body.”

  McCoy sat up straight behind his desk. “You killed someone else?”

  “No… well… you’ll find one of my rounds in him, but he was already dead. Tanner killed him.”

  Chief McCoy looked over at Lydia, while not knowing what to make of Sara’s tale.

  In truth, McCoy didn’t care much about what she was saying. His mind was preoccupied by thoughts of the empty flask he carried. He needed more whiskey. As soon as the FBI took this mess off his hands, he was going to go out and get some.

  Lydia spoke to Tanner. “What’s your story, handsome?”

  Tanner sat up. “How about something to eat?”

  Lydia chuckled. “You’re only worried about your stomach, are you?”

  “For now.”

  McCoy picked up the landline. “The man might be a murdering thief, but food sounds like a good idea. God only knows how long it will be before the Feds get here. I’ll call Bonnie over at Grover’s and have her bring us some lunch.”

  “I’ll take the usual,” Lydia said. “But first I’m gonna go check out that farm.”

  Sara sighed with relief. “Thank you, but please be careful, Deputy. Those people might still be there.”

  “Um-hmm,” Lydia said. “But don’t go thinking I believe you. That farm you’re talking about, we call that place Forgotten Farm, because it just sits there year after year rotting away. Checking out the farm, that’s just me humoring you, and later, when the Feds come, it’ll save them doing the same.”

  Lydia left, and after ordering food, the chief began reading a book. That left Sara to stare across her cell at Tanner, who was studying her.

  “What the hell are you looking at?”

  “You, I was wondering what drives you.”

  “You know what drives me. It’s revenge. When the FBI agents come and drag you out of here in shackles, I’ll at least have some small measure of satisfaction.”

  “But it won’t be the same, will it? You won’t be able to get that thrill, the high, which torturing me would have given you.”

  “I don’t enjoy hurting people; you wo
uld be an exception.”

  Tanner gave a little laugh.

  “What do you find so funny?”

  “I wouldn’t be an exception, Blake, I’d be an excuse; a way for you to let that thing that lives inside you come out and play.”

  “I’m not sadistic like you, Tanner. I don’t get off on killing people.”

  “Then why do you spend every waking hour planning my murder?”

  “Because you killed the man I loved, or is love an emotion you can’t fathom?”

  “You forget, I watched you and Ames together while I was closing in to kill him. Yes, you were in love, but you seemed no different to me than any other couple. Any woman in your position might want me dead, but the desire to torture, the obsessive pursuit, those come from a different place. If you ever did kill me, that hunger you feel wouldn’t die with me.”

  “Psychobabble bullshit from a man who makes his living killing people.”

  “I am a killer. I’m also a man who knows himself, and I see some of me in you.”

  Sara frowned. “I’m not like you, Tanner. I’m… I’m a good person.”

  Tanner lay back atop the cot. “There’s no good or bad, Blake, only people.”

  “Bullshit,” Sara said, but the word had no conviction in it, and a part of her feared that what he was saying was true.

  168

  Lucky

  Cameron’s truck returned to earth after having plunged four feet. To Cameron, the impact felt as if she had been dropped off the Empire State Building.

  No airbag deployed, because the old blue truck didn’t have one. However, the seat belt had dug into her with such force that she thought the strap had dislocated her shoulder, while the duffel bag which she normally kept on the seat in the rear, was now perched upside down on the dashboard.

  After she recovered from the impact, Cameron hit the brakes. The truck shuddered, the belts squeaked, and the engine cut off on its own.

  Cameron emerged from the truck while massaging her left shoulder and expected to find that the front tires had blown out.

  The tires were fine, as was the rest of the truck, and after several attempts the motor started again.

  Cameron patted the steering wheel. “You’re a tough old girl, aren’t you?” The truck answered by continuing to purr its engine sounds. Cameron left it and walked back to look over the edge of the bridge.

  There was a nine-foot gap, and across the way, she could see that the other end of the short bridge had crumpled at its base, which caused the middle to rise and break apart.

  Cameron was looking forward to reuniting with her brother in the afterlife someday, and had she been going any slower than she was, that reunion could have already occurred.

  Fortunately, no cars had fallen in. Cameron had no doubt that had she plunged into the water, that she would have been swept downstream by the powerful flow of the river below.

  A car approached from the other way. Cameron was about to wave in warning, but saw the man slow well before nearing the edge.

  He was a young guy in a suit, maybe a sales rep of some kind. After leaving his car, he looked over the edge with wide eyes.

  “Whoa, the damn thing just fell apart.”

  He glanced over at Cameron, then at her truck, then back at her before pointing at the other side. “You drove off of that, didn’t you?”

  Cameron smiled. “I didn’t have much choice.”

  “Damn, and you made it in one piece too. Hey, buy a lottery ticket; this is obviously your lucky day.”

  The smile left Cameron’s face. “It’s not my lucky day, but I do plan to collect a prize.”

  She returned to her truck and drove into Ridge Creek. Although she had no idea how she would do it, she vowed to see her brother’s killer dead.

  Lydia left her cruiser blocking the entrance to the farm and cupped her hands over the side window to check out the silver Toyota minivan that belonged to Tyler and Sherry.

  She did the same thing with Sara’s car, then moved on toward the house, where she looked inside Tanner’s pickup truck.

  When she reached the front porch, she saw the human shape wrapped up in sheets and placed her hand upon her weapon. What she failed to see was Tyler, who was coming up behind her with his gun pointed her way.

  The front door flew open and Sherry stood there with her gun ready. When she spotted Lydia, she dropped her hand to her side.

  “Oh, hi.”

  “Where’s Tyler?”

  “Right here.”

  Lydia spun around and smiled at him. “Aren’t you the sneaky one?”

  Tyler nodded, and Lydia saw that his eyes were red from crying.

  “I’m sorry about Randall, Tyler.”

  “Yeah, but let’s get inside; we got a lot to talk about.”

  They had moved into the kitchen, where Tyler described Dean and Amy to Lydia.

  “You say the girl had real dark hair and was dressed all in black, while the boy was a redhead?”

  “Yeah, but not bright red, darker than that.”

  “Um-hmm, I think I know those kids, especially the girl. I mean, who the hell still dresses like a goth?”

  “Can you find them, Lydia?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah, the girl lives over on 10th Street with her mom who only has one foot and a jacked-up eye. It’s the newest house on the block, because the woman won some kind of settlement or something years ago. But here’s the thing, we can’t just let those kids give back the money and walk away, because they’ll talk.”

  “Kill them,” Sherry said.

  “I will, but I’ll want half of Randall’s share for doing it.”

  Sherry leapt up from her seat.

  “You greedy bitch! You weren’t even at the robbery.”

  “No, I wasn’t, but I also wasn’t the one who left the money alone in the house. Any idiot would have hidden it before chasing after that woman.”

  Sherry’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Are you calling me stupid?”

  Tyler raised up his hands. “Enough! Lydia, go take care of them damn kids and get the money back.”

  Lydia smiled at Tyler. “I will. I’m someone you can count on.”

  They walked Lydia out to the front door and watched her splash her way back to her cruiser.

  Sherry’s scowl deepened as she thought about what Lydia had said.

  “Bitch! Like I had time to hide the damn money. She was the one who told us this place was safe to stay at. Now look at things, Randall is dead and the money is missing. It’s all her fault, all of it.”

  Tyler put an arm around Sherry’s shoulders to calm her down. “Things will work out, and while Lydia is busy looking for those kids, I’ll be busy too.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Those two that killed Randall are sitting right in that jail. I’m going down there and kill them.”

  “You can’t. The chief is there.”

  “I’ll take care of him too if I have to, but there ain’t no damn way they’re getting away with killing my brother.”

  “Don’t go. We’ll get them another time.”

  Tyler shrugged into his jacket. “You stay here and wait for Lydia. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Tyler, no.”

  “I have to, Sherry, I have to.”

  Tyler left the farmhouse with murder on his mind, and Sherry wondered if she’d ever see him again.

  169

  Like Looking In A Mirror

  The food arrived in the company of a middle-aged woman with wide hips and a ready smile. Her name was Bonnie and she recognized Tanner.

  “Where do you know him from, Bonnie?”

  “He was at Grover’s about a week ago, Chief. Had a hell of a fight too. Richie Clark and his friends ganged up on him, but he kicked all five of their asses and left with Joyce Rollins’ girl on his arm. You know, her youngest, Amber, and her friend too, the one with all the blonde hair.”

  The chief stared through the bars at Tanner. “I heard about that fight, so thi
s was the guy, hmm?”

  “That’s him.”

  The room grew dark as the power went off, but after only a few seconds, it came back on.

  “This storm is causing a lot of havoc,” Bonnie said. “On the way over here, I heard on the radio that the North Street Bridge collapsed.”

  The chief nodded. “Yeah, the state cops are handling it and those FBI guys say it’ll delay them some, they have to circle around through Bainville now, and half the roads there are flooded too.”

  “Well, enjoy your food.” Bonnie took one last look at Tanner, smiled, then left.

  The chief passed Tanner and Sara each a foam container that held a cheeseburger and fries, then returned with cans of soda, before settling at his desk to eat his own meal.

  Sara stared across at Tanner, who was making fast work of his cheeseburger.

  “You’ve been in this town for a week? What were you doing here?”

  Tanner ignored her and kept eating.

  “A man named Al Trent was here last week as well. What do you know about him?”

  More chewing, as Tanner’s eyes gazed about the room, as if looking for a way to escape.

  “That was Trent’s phone you were holding when I found you, so I know he’s been at that farm. What I don’t know is why.”

  Tanner remained silent, as he tried the French fries. By talking, Sara had answered a question for him. He now knew the reason why she was at the house.

  She had been looking for Al Trent’s phone, not for him, and she had no idea that he was at the farm. That was good; it meant that when he killed her, his secret would stay safe. That is, if he also managed to escape from his cell.

  Sara huffed in exasperation at his silence and took a bite of her food.

  The door opened, and Cameron Ryder strolled in. After sending the chief a nod, Cameron marched over to the cells to stare in at Sara and Tanner. After giving Tanner only a few seconds of inspection, her eyes locked on Sara.