by BJ Bourg
“But what did Kenneth have to do with it?” I wanted to know. “Why frame him for the murders? It seems senseless.”
Gina squinted. “I’ve been trying to figure that one out myself. Maybe the killer was trying to buy some time. The longer we’re out chasing ghosts—or an innocent cop—the longer he can operate undetected. If he set Kenneth up, that means he had to know about the affair. If we find out who knew about the affair, we find the killer! Bethany”—Gina turned to look at her—“don’t you handle cases of officer misconduct? Conduct Unbecoming an Officer or whatever the hell y’all call it now?”
“Yeah, but no one’s ever filed a complaint against Kenneth about anything. He was clean as a whistle.”
“How about you follow-up on that angle when we’re done here, Gina,” I suggested. “Check the complaint database to see if there were any complaints filed against him that never made it to IA, and canvass his neighborhood to see if anyone saw anything suspicious. We do know that Justin Wainwright was following him, so maybe the killer was following Wainwright and found out that way.”
Gina scribbled some more in her notebook.
Footsteps echoed on the hollow floor downstairs. “Y’all up there?” a voice called from the bottom of the stairway.
CHAPTER 19
We walked to the edge of the staircase and looked down to see a team of crime scene investigators, clad from head to toe in white crime scene suits and carrying crime scene cases, looking up at us.
“Yeah, but we’ll be getting out of your way,” Bethany said. She then led us downstairs and out into the smothering afternoon air.
A group of patrol officers under the command of Captain Carmella Vizier had teamed up with five detectives and they were searching all the civilian vehicles in the area. The civilians stood patiently beside their vehicles, none of them uttering a single complaint. It wasn’t every day they saw a high-ranking cop get the back of his head blown out during the funerals of two other cops who’d died identical deaths, and even if they didn’t like their stuff being searched, I guess they figured it would be better if they didn’t add to the sour mood of all the officers involved.
Roadblocks had been set up along Highway Three to the north and south of the graveyard and other officers were stopping and searching everything and everyone that approached. Many of the officers were SWAT members, and they had quickly changed into their tactical gear. The black garb, ballistic helmets, low-riding holsters and semi-automatic rifles dangling across the front of their bodies made for an intimidating presence, and no one dared resist the polite requests to search their vehicles.
As I watched them wave cars to a stop, I caught several of them glancing anxiously up and around, as though expecting a sniper’s bullet to whisper out of the sky and snatch the life right out of them. I scanned the surrounding graveyard and observed the same actions from officers and civilians alike. I shook my head. This killer had everyone on edge. What these officers didn’t realize was that even if they were targeted, they would never know it…just like Wainwright, Landry and Abbott never knew it. One instant they were standing in this world doing their own thing and the very next instant they were standing before their Maker, trying to explain away the transgressions from their all-too-short lives. Their deaths were so sudden and unexpected they didn’t know how it was that they’d come to be standing before God, nor did they know why they were there.
We met the other snipers in the backyard of the old school, and I turned to Bethany. “Come…walk me to my car. I have an extra rifle you can use.” As we turned to leave, I caught Gina studying us. There was a strange expression on her face. When she saw me looking, she turned her head and busied herself checking the chamber of the semi-automatic rifle Ray Sevin had given her.
Bethany and I rushed through the empty graveyard to where my new unmarked cruiser was parked. It was a nice car, but the trunk was just big enough to fit all my sniper gear. I smashed the trunk button and removed my semi-automatic rifle from the rifle rack mounted to the trunk lid. “You know how to use this?” I asked Bethany.
Wide-eyed, she shook her head.
“It’s not as mean as it looks.” I gave her a quick lesson on how to operate it.
“Does it kick?” she asked when I handed it to her.
“I’ve shot it with the butt against my…um, you know, my jewels, and nothing broke.”
“No, I’m serious. Does it kick?”
“I’ve done it a number of times to demonstrate how little it kicks. I’d do it for you here, but”—I waved my hand around—“these jumpy bastards would all drop dead from a heart attack.”
Bethany cocked her head sideways. “Why aren’t you jumpy?”
I shrugged into my sniper vest. “What do you mean?”
“I noticed how scared and panicky all these officers were when the shooting started, those who pretend to be so tough and who act like bad-asses. But you…you come across as just a normal guy, but you didn’t panic at all.”
“I am just a normal guy.” I locked my tactical gun belt in place and slammed my trunk shut.
“No, you’re normal until the shit hits the fan. At that point, while everyone else is freaking out, you’re cold as ice, even when you’re under fire. I mean, I saw how you saved the sheriff’s life. It was almost as though…”
I started making my way back to the old schoolhouse. “As though what?”
Bethany hesitated. “Um…as though you wanted to die.”
I stopped and turned to face her. “Are you saying I’m suicidal?”
“No…no, not at all,” Bethany said. “I just… It just seems like you don’t care about dying. You threw yourself between the sheriff and the sniper. Who does that?”
“Bethany—I mean, LT—I do care about dying. I have a strong will to survive and I’ll always do everything I can to keep myself and everyone around me alive.” I turned my eyes away, not wanting her to see into my soul. “It’s just so much easier when you only have yourself to think about. Cops with families…they’re distracted on the job. They might not think so or want to admit it, but every time they get into a life-and-death situation they’re wondering what’ll happen if they die—who’ll raise their kids, how’ll their families pay for the house, who’ll be sleeping next to their spouses. All that shit rips through their minds and distracts them from the task at hand. That’s why so many mistakes are made during stressful situations.”
“I don’t have a family”—her voice was sad—“but it’s not easy for me. This scares the shit out of me. I’m always looking over my shoulder, wondering—”
I put a finger to her full lips. They were soft and moist. I’d thought she would pull back, but she didn’t. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Lieutenant Bethany Riggs—Internal Affairs investigator, the cop of the cops—nodded and took my hand away from her face. “I know you won’t,” she said softly.
What the hell are you thinking, London? I asked myself as we continued on our walk toward the old schoolhouse. The other snipers were there and had their gear. Gina stepped forward and motioned with her head. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” I followed her to the side of the building out of earshot of the others. “What’s up?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” Her eyes were narrow, penetrating.
“I don’t understand what’s happening here.”
“Something’s going on between you and Bethany.”
“No, there isn’t.” I glanced over my shoulder to where Bethany stood, her blonde hair blowing in the light summer breeze, her face a sculpture of perfection. I turned back to Gina and leaned closer. “Are we really having this conversation? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m single, and most importantly, a cop just got killed. Whatever’s going on with you, you’d better put it far behind you and get your head in the game. I need you sharp. I need everyone sharp. We ain’t got time for petty bullshit.”
“You know you can be such a prick sometim
es.” Without saying another word, Gina huffed and stormed away.
“Hey, Gina,” I called out, “wait a minute.”
Gina continued walking. She placed her closed hands against the small of her back and subtly extended both middle fingers my way. I shook my head, as I followed her to the group.
There were nine of us—six from the sniper team, two from SWAT and Lieutenant Bethany Riggs—and I split us up into three teams.
“Team two will cover the northern sector of the graveyard, and team three will cover the southern sector. The patrol guys are checking cars to the east.” I nodded to Ray Sevin and Bethany. “We’ll take the western sector.”
“Let’s do this shit.” Ray’s voice was somber.
“Keep your eyes peeled and your index fingers close to the trigger,” I warned. “That bastard’s still out there and until he’s caught, no one’s safe. No one!”
We spent the remainder of the day trudging through cane fields, dense woods and blackberry pickers, but there was no trace of the shooter or any evidence of his comings or goings. It was as though he’d appeared in that old schoolhouse, murdered Abbott, left his message behind and then disappeared into the humid air. He was a ghost…a sniper. The tattoo on my left shoulder bore the sniper’s creed, and this evil bastard was adhering to it.
We met team two and team three back at the old school. They looked as tattered as we did. The sun had crept behind the distant trees and the temperature had cooled to about a hundred and two degrees. The crime scene detectives had left, and the graveyard was empty except for us.
I wiped grimy sweat from my forehead. “Anyone heard from the sheriff?”
“I spoke to Captain Theriot a few minutes ago,” Gina offered, “and he said all the commanders are camping out at the main office tonight.”
“All of them?” I asked.
Gina nodded. “Every last one of them.”
I glanced at Bethany, whose blonde hair was plastered to the sides of her head. Her cheeks were flushed and her makeup had long since disappeared from her face. I found it hard to peel my eyes from her perfect complexion—
“Did you hear me, London?”
Sure, I’d seen her lips moving, but I hadn’t heard a word Lieutenant Bethany Riggs had said. “I’m sorry. What’d you say?”
Bethany tried to act annoyed, but I thought I saw her face blush slightly and wondered if Gina was on to something. What if there was something happening between us? Would that even be possible?
“I said,” Bethany repeated, “that this is the perfect opportunity to get all of the captains together in one room. We can meet with them to see if they have any idea what the hell James five-sixteen means.”
“Good idea. One of them has to know something.” I turned to the rest of the team. “Y’all get home and get some rest, but be careful. Even though we’re not captains, we all need to be on high alert until we know who we’re dealing with and what he wants. Change up your patterns of movement, don’t stand in front of windows, get in and out of cars and buildings as quickly as possible…shit like that.”
CHAPTER 20
Bethany turned her car into the large parking lot across the street from the main office, and I parked beside her. My eyes were on the building as I shut off my car. Something looked different. I opened the door and saw Bethany staring, too.
“Why’s the building so dark?” she asked.
I scanned the roofs of nearby buildings, searching the dark skyline for any signs of a shooter. Nothing.
“Let’s go find out.” I started across the parking lot, and she followed. As we walked closer to the main office building, I saw slivers of light at the very top and bottom of the windows and realized what had happened. “They blacked out the windows. It looks like they used cardboard.”
Bethany’s nose scrunched up. “Cardboard? They don’t really think cardboard will stop a bullet, do they?”
“No. Snipers can’t shoot what they can’t see, and this particular sniper is selecting specific targets, so the cardboard will suffice.”
“But can’t he just shoot at random and still hit someone inside?” she wanted to know. “He could just take an automatic weapon and shoot out all the windows, killing nearly everyone inside.”
“We’re not dealing with some crazy gunman who’s trying to run up a number.” I shook my head. “No, we’re dealing with a highly trained killer on a very specific mission. He’s only going to kill who he needs to kill to accomplish his mission—not a person more.”
“If you say so. After all, you’re the expert on this shit.”
We used our key and entered through the back door, then strolled up the long hallway toward the front of the building. Military cots were strewn along the hallway and in some of the rooms. When we neared the end of the hall, I glanced into Sheriff Burke’s plush office. It was empty. I found him around the corner and two doors down in Chief Garcia’s office.
“I’m not about to sleep in an office with windows,” Sheriff Burke explained.
“Good thinking,” I said. One wall of Burke’s office was solid glass and it faced a number of three- to five-story buildings across the city. Chief Garcia’s office, on the other hand, was located at the center of the building, with no windows or doors leading to the outside.
Bethany didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Sheriff, we need all the commanders in the conference room as soon as possible so we can try and figure out if any of them have any connections to Wainwright, Landry and Abbott. We need to know if James five-sixteen means anything to them.”
“It’s getting late,” Sheriff Burke said. “Why don’t we wait until the morning?”
“Sheriff, I think Bethany’s right. We need to get this done as soon as possible,” I said. “That way we can start following up on any leads first thing in the morning. If we waste time and someone else dies, it’ll be our bad.”
“That piece of shit is killing captains and”—Sheriff Burke shot a thumb over his shoulder toward the back of the office—“they’re all safe and secure in here. We’ve got half the SWAT team surrounding the building and up on the roof. No one’s dying tonight…I guarantee that. You kids go on home and get some sleep.” Burke glanced at his wristwatch. “Be back here at six in the morning. I’ll have all the commanders waiting for y’all in the conference room.”
Worry lines had etched deep grooves into Sheriff Burke’s face and his eyelids drooped slightly. This had been a rough week for everyone. As much as I wanted to get right to work, I knew we had to sleep at some point, and now was probably the best time. Once we dived further into this case, there was no telling how long we’d be running around.
My eyes met Bethany’s and I nodded. We both turned and made our way back into the night. The city streets were deserted. I walked Bethany to her car and paused there for a minute. “Will you be okay?” I asked. “I mean, I know you can take care of yourself, but we’ve already had three capable cops get killed and…and I’ll worry about you.”
She stood there quiet, staring down at the keys in her hand.
I swallowed the sand in my throat. “Would you like some company tonight? Maybe I could cook you something to eat. You know, I’d feel more comfortable if everyone stayed paired up—”
“You cook?” Bethany’s face bore an expression of skepticism.
“I cook a mean peanut butter and banana sandwich.”
Bethany’s eyes narrowed. “London Carter, are you trying to lure me to your place so you can seduce me?”
My cheeks caught fire. I stammered, the words tripping over themselves. I finally managed to say, “No! I just thought it’d be better if we stayed together. At least until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“You mean, for safety’s sake?”
“That’s it,” I said. “For safety’s sake.”
Bethany smiled, her eyes glistening in the dark. “Okay, you’re on. Let me go home and shower first and—”
“I’ve got a shower,” I offered, befor
e I realized what I was saying. “And hot water, clean towels, an old T-shirt…whatever you need.” I braced myself for what would happen next.
Bethany studied me for a few moments before a tired smile slowly spread across her face. “It’s been a rough week. I could sure use some company and pampering. Follow me to my house so I can get a toothbrush.”
My heart began pounding in my ears. As soon as Bethany was in her car, I slipped into my unmarked and followed her across Chateau to her house. I waited as she retrieved her things and then she followed me to my house.
I showered quickly in the master bathroom, while she showered in the hallway bathroom. Her water was still running when I walked into the kitchen to put supper on. It was a little after midnight when she called from the bathroom.
“London, where’s that T-shirt you promised?”
I’d just finished heating up a frozen pizza—the smell torturing my aching stomach—and was making drinks. I froze in mid-pour. “Say again,” I called back, not believing my ears.
Bare feet padded behind me and I turned to see Bethany Riggs—Lieutenant Bethany Riggs—standing there wrapped in a bath towel, droplets of water hanging precariously from her hair and ears. “You promised me a shirt.” Her nose wrinkled and her eyes darted to the oven. “Hey! You also promised peanut butter and bananas! Will I get anything you promised?”
It felt as though my chin were dragging the ground as I stared. Tanned and toned legs shot out the bottom edge of the towel and smooth shoulders extended from the top. She lifted her hands and ran a towel through her wet hair. I caught my breath. I didn’t remember her breasts being that pronounced. One wrong move and the bath towel would be on the floor around her ankles.
I blinked back to the issue at hand. “Yeah, I’ll keep at least two of the promises. You’ll get some company…and a T-shirt.” I put down the bottle of soda. “After the day we’ve had, I figured you deserved a hot meal.”
“Pizza certainly sounds good right about now.” She smiled and tapped the front of the towel. “Can I get that T-shirt, or do you want me to wear this towel all night?”
