Maggie Croft, Run

by M. L. Harris

  Aiden. Such a stupid ass!

  Brody had seen the late evening newscasts, grimacing as he saw the coverage of Ivan’s arrest in Bayshore Park.

  Not one to dwell on such things he left the library, walking down the hallway and stopping in the doorway of a room, walls lined with electronic equipment.

  Inside, a guard monitored a bank of screens, images coming back from cameras throughout the house and grounds. Sensing a presence the guard turned, seeing Brody as he stood in the doorway.

  “Tell everyone to stay alert. And I want to be notified of anything unusual.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Greta might be traveling on foot, that is, if she hasn’t gotten help from the outside. Send some men out and comb the area.”

  “I’m already on it, sir.”

  Brody figured Greta wouldn’t get far: He planned to implicate her in a sham robbery at the estate.

  He began stepping away, but then stopped.

  “By the way, how did she get out?”

  The guard swiveled his chair around, facing Brody. “Over the wall. Used a plank as a footbridge and defeated the sensor strip.”

  Brody walked away, shaking his head.

  Chapter

  48

  Deep in the bowels of the Weston house Jack lay in the cellar on his shabby bed, thinking about what Brody had told him about me. A door opened at the top of the stairs, and he was jolted back into the present.

  Moments later Brody appeared, outside his cell. He sat in a chair and glanced over at Aiden, in a cell of his own and beyond earshot.

  Then he turned back to Jack, telling him, “You know something, you’re a bright guy. I’m hoping you might be of use to me.”

  Jack gave the impression that he was considering the offer.

  Hey, anything to stay alive.

  “Dude, I happened to be the driver in the crash that killed Dylan. What’s that all about?”

  “A coincidence,” Brody lied. “They happen. By the way, how did you make the connection to Hector Gray?”

  “The night of the crash I thought somebody was following us. I called Maggie with the license plate number of the sedan. She followed the money, and that led her to Gray.”

  “A resourceful girl, Maggie is. You really crushed that slimeball. I saw the coverage, highly entertaining.”

  “In my view, the bastard got what he deserved.”

  Brody chuckled.

  “How do you think I get things done, Jack? Crooked law firms like Evans and Cromwell do my dirty work.”

  “Did,” Jack corrected.

  “Believe me, there are more where they came from.”

  Jack could only shake his head. What a weasel.

  “Let me guess, Maggie traced the money from Gray to Ivan.”

  “He’s the scum of the earth.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that. Ivan’s a tough nut, but he got sloppy. Most do eventually. I must say, his arrest in Bayshore Park was quite an embarrassment.”

  Jack shifted his weight on the bed, and replied, “That’s one less hardened criminal off the streets.”

  “I won’t argue,” Brody said with a devious grin. “Of course, once you and Maggie were on to him, I had to put a stop to it. No more games.”

  “Your business partners… you had them murdered. What are you expecting to gain?”

  Brody sneered, “Money and power, of course. You see, a clause in DynaTech’s partnership agreement states that if any of the partners die, then his share of the company has to be sold to the remaining partners. And since I’m the only surviving partner…”

  “DynaTech is now all yours.”

  “That’s right, Jack. The whole company belongs to me.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow.

  “Must be one hell of a pile of money to justify murdering three innocent people.”

  “Innocent of what?” Brody asked, his expression deadpan.

  Jack looked at him in amazement.

  “No one is innocent, Jack. We’re all guilty of something.”

  “Then I guess you don’t believe in the fair share plan.”

  Brody chuckled, giving Jack a dismissive look. “Think about my offer,” he said, turning away and walking up the stairs.

  As he disappeared, Jack glanced at the guard.

  I have to get out of here. But how?

  Chapter

  49

  As Emily drives toward the police station, Greta turns to her.

  “My husband, he isn’t a cooperative person.”

  “How did you get by him?”

  Greta takes a gun out of her purse. “It belongs to Mr. Fisher.”

  Glancing over, Emily’s eyes grow wide as she sees the gun.

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t shoot him.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I don’t know. He’s probably locked in the cellar with Mr. Fisher.”

  Cellar?

  Emily then realizes Greta has valuable information about Brody Weston’s house.

  Moments later, they enter the police station where Emily introduces Greta to me. After chatting for a few minutes about her daring escape, she tells us about the cellar and hearing Jack’s voice.

  Suddenly my heart flutters. There’s hope!

  God, please let him still be alive.

  Taking Greta into a room Emily spreads sheets of paper out on a table, asking her to draw (to the best of her ability) detailed floor plans of Weston’s house.

  Greta then recounts her experience in the basement mechanical room, and the pipe leading down to some kind of hidden chamber.

  An hour later I am sitting in a chair along the hallway when Emily and Greta emerge from the room. I stand as they approach me. “I understand Jack Fisher is your boyfriend,” Greta says.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I’m so sorry all of this had to happen,” she tells me. “My prayers are with you.” Then she whispers a secret in my ear.

  “Thanks,” I reply, trying to hide my surprised reaction.

  “I hope everything works out alright. Good luck,” Greta says as an officer approaches her. Before she turns to be escorted down the hall I see her, noticing a look of desperation in my eyes.

  “Take care,” I call after her.

  Chapter

  50

  The arrest warrant for Brody Weston was issued by a judge shortly after Detective Gower delivered Ivan’s sworn confession to the district attorney. Considering the severity of the crimes, and the real possibility that authorities could be met with armed resistance, the Chief of the San Jose Police Department decided to send in a SWAT team to assist with the arrest.

  I must say, I feel like a tightly-wound ball of tension. Nerves frayed, I cannot sit still any longer.

  Emily is behind closed doors, planning strategy with police officers and a SWAT team.

  Why are they taking so long? Don’t they realize time is wasting? Can’t they just raid the place, already? They have a warrant. Don’t they know that Jack could be . . .

  “Ms. Croft?”

  Turning, I see a man. His eyes are kind but the dark circles around them make me think: Does he ever sleep?

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “Hi. I’m Detective Torres. You seem really tense. Any chance I could treat you to a stale Twinkie and some conversation in the cafeteria?”

  I manage a chuckle.

  “Sure.”

  I follow him down a couple of hallways and we enter the cafeteria. It’s empty. I sit at a table, fidgeting as he slides quarters in a vending machine.

  “Coffee?” he asks.

  “Black.”

  Taking a seat across from me, he places two coffees and food on the table.

  “As promised. One stale Twinkie… and coffee, black.”

  I grin and say, “Stop trying to cheer me up.”

  He looks back at me, a glint in his kind eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

  I smile, reaching over and placing my h
and on top of his.

  “Don’t be. It’s just that, if something doesn’t happen real soon, I might explode.”

  “This isn’t easy, I know, the waiting and all.”

  “Somebody help! I’m going crazy.”

  He glances at his watch. “Won’t be long now, maybe half an hour.”

  “Do you work with Emily?” I ask, biting into my Twinkie (actually, it’s not bad).

  “Couple of years. She’s an extremely good detective. You’re in good hands. Emily will do everything she can for you and Jack.”

  “How do you know?”

  Eyes darting toward the doorway, Detective Torres repositions his chair next to mine.

  “Detective Gower holds her cards close to the vest. She and Brody Weston have a history. I know I shouldn’t be saying this...”

  “It’s cool. I won’t say anything.”

  “Well… Detective Gower caught Brody Weston in a sting operation a while back. She thought the case was a slam-dunk, no problem. But then Weston’s lawyers helped him beat the rap, bribery and corruption, stuff like that. Anyway, Emily got burned when he walked.”

  “And she holds a grudge.”

  “Right. She’s strictly old school, earned her stripes through hard work, and sweat. But this Brody Weston, he’s nothin’ but a trust fund baby. His daddy made a fortune in banking, then showered it on Brody, gave him seed money for gettin’ Dynatech launched, that’s where the real dough came from. His son Brody’s just a punk. Got stinkin’ rich off DynaTech. Guess his share wasn’t good enough.”

  “I get the picture.”

  After finishing our coffee and snacks Detective Torres and I part in the hallway. I walk in the direction of the reception area, and rounding a corner I see Emily coming toward me, an intense dude by her side. His expression is fanatical, and the letters S.W.A.T. are blazoned across his chest, just below his thick neck and buzz cut.

  Exactly what is needed for this raid, I’m thinking.

  “Hey,” Emily says to me, then she turns to the big dude. “Officer Brooks, this is Maggie Croft.”

  He nods. The troublemaker, his expression seems to be saying.

  “Nice to meet you,” he offers politely. “I understand you helped get us here.”

  I decide to play it down. “You might say that.”

  “Officer Brooks is leading the SWAT team,” declares Emily.

  “The recon team has spotted Brody Weston at his estate.”

  “Confirmed?” I ask.

  “Yup. We’re going in,” Brooks announces.

  “I see,” I reply, turning to Emily. “Uh… do you think I could ride along?”

  “No. That’s a bad idea.”

  Officer Brooks interjects, “I don’t see any harm there.” He looks at me and says, “Just stay back from our forward operations.”

  Emily turns, giving me a stern look.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah, totally cool with me.”

  Chapter

  51

  The sky above the Weston estate is black and still, the silhouettes of the SWAT team nearly invisible as they approach the perimeter. Located in a vacant lot down the street, police cars gather together. Sitting next to Emily in the backseat of an unmarked car, I wait anxiously for the raid to begin.

  The SWAT officers slide on ropes from the top of the perimeter wall, crossing the pressure sensor. Moving in tight formation, the six-man team approaches a guard on the front lawn near the driveway.

  “Drop your weapon,” Brooks calls out.

  The guard swings around, taking aim, but he’s too late. Leveling his silenced automatic rifle, Brooks fires two rounds, each hitting the guard in the chest as he collapses on the ground.

  Advancing swiftly, the SWAT team closes in on another guard by a hedgerow in the gardens, killing him.

  As they approach the house a guard engages them, and he’s cut down by the team’s silenced weapons.

  The assault continues as the SWAT officers sweep the grounds.

  “Grounds secure,” Brooks announces in the small microphone by his chin.

  Then Brooks and his men take up a position outside the kitchen door, attaching explosives to the doorjamb and moving back to a safe distance.

  “On my count,” Brooks says. “Three, two, one…”

  The charges explode and the door blasts inward.

  Brooks pauses, holding his men back near the outside wall.

  Responding to the explosion a guard fires his weapon, sending a hailstorm of bullets through the door and windows.

  There’s a momentary silence as he reloads.

  “Go!” Brooks says.

  Seizing the opportunity, Brooks and his men enter the kitchen with lightning speed and open fire.

  They hear a thud as the guard crumples to the floor.

  Moving quickly into a hallway the team sees a guard, darting into a room and locking a heavy metal door behind him.

  Brooks presses a wad of plastic explosive against the door, motioning to the others to get back.

  “Going explosive,” he calls out.

  As the door bursts open he tosses a tear gas canister inside.

  Choking and gasping for air, the guard emerges from the room and he’s quickly subdued.

  One by one, the SWAT team searches the rooms for guards, and Brody Weston. Brooks scrambles up the main staircase, to Weston’s bedroom.

  Meanwhile, down in the cellar, Jack feels vibrations as the house is rocked by the explosion. The cellar guard rises from his chair, but wobbles on his feet from the blast.

  Acting quickly, Jack reaches his arms outside his cell, grabbing the guard by the neck and choking him against the bars.

  He then grabs the guard’s gun and the keys from his belt ring, unlocking his cell and freeing himself. As he moves up the stairs and into the basement hallway, Jack hears footsteps on the stairway coming down from the main level. He quickly ducks into a storage room, shutting the door.

  Two SWAT officers emerge in the basement, advancing cautiously as one of them glances at a diagram taped to his arm.

  The door to the cellar should be twenty paces ahead.

  But when they reach the door, they find it’s unlocked.

  Puzzled, they inch down the circular stairs, entering the cellar.

  It is empty but for Aiden, and a guard lying on the floor.

  “Where in the hell is Fisher?” one of the SWAT officers says.

  The second officer shrugs. “Beats me.”

  “He should be down here. I don’t get it.” He turns to Aiden. “Where’s Jack Fisher?”

  “He escaped.”

  They turn, heading back up the stairs.

  “Let’s check the floor above.”

  Entering the basement, they’re moving along the hallway when, suddenly, a door opens behind them.

  They pivot around, ready to fire.

  “What took you so long?” Jack asks.

  “Fisher!” one of the officers replies. “What the hell?”

  Then, he hears Brooks’ voice in his headset.

  “Do you have Weston?”

  “Negative,” the officer replies.

  Negative? How can that be?

  “Nothing?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Keep searching.”

  “Copy.”

  After conducting an exhaustive search, and despite turning the place upside down, Brody Weston is nowhere to be found.

  Somehow, he had given them the slip.

  Chapter

  52

  Earlier, as the SWAT officers moved through the main level of the house, Brody Weston had been startled in his bedroom by the commotion. Running to the top of the staircase, he saw his guards, facing intense gunfire.

  Spinning on his heels, he returned to his bedroom.

  Quickly getting dressed he stepped over to a row of bookcases, placing his hand over a rosette. As he turned it a section of the bookcase slid back, revealing a secret passage.
/>
  He entered the cramped space, pulling on a lever as the bookcase moved back to its original position. With a flashlight guiding him, he descended a narrow, circular staircase.

  Bypassing the basement level he entered the cellar, then began along an extended passageway, beneath the rear lawn.

  Eventually he came to what appeared to be a blank wall.

  As he pulled on another lever, a door sprung open, the camouflaged portal blending into the surrounding vegetation. Just beyond the door a small landing extended outward, connected to a narrow set of stairs down to the canyon.

  Weston emerged from the murky passage, pausing briefly to allow his pupils to adjust to the moonlight.

  Eyes focusing, he became startled by what he’d seen.

  Chapter

  53

  I manage to break away from Emily and the police car by giving the excuse that I badly need to pee. Entering the woods, I scramble through the canyon along the perimeter of the estate, eventually finding the outlet of the secret passageway.

  I’m standing on the landing, Brody Weston looking back, a shocked expression on his face.

  He struggles for words.

  “Gotcha,” I tell him.

  “But… how did you …”

  Turning, he glances back at the passage, wondering how I know about it.

  Then, the answer comes.

  “Greta!”

  “Damn right… us females have a way of sticking together.”

  He gives no reply.

  “I did some checking at the police station,” I inform him. “The night Dylan was killed you knew Jack would be driving that limo.”

  He just smirks at me.

  “Was it because I rejected you that night at the Loft Bar?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “You nearly killed the man I love… you miserable bastard.”

  “So you’re here for revenge, is that it?”

  “Revenge is for suckers. Just didn’t want you to get away, that’s all.”

  “Uh huh. I’ll bet it came as quite a surprise, seeing me at the San Francisco Zoo.”

  “You’re a friggin’ lunatic.”

  “Easy, Maggie.”

  He inches closer ever so slightly, but I don’t notice.

  “Your all done, Brody.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you think.”