Friday Night Frights (Jack and Ashley Detective series Book 1)

by R. D. Sherrill

  “I’m not giving you a clean bill of health by any stretch, you realize. If it were up to me, you’d be in bed for several days,” the doctor said with concern. “Just so you don’t do anything too strenuous and aren’t driving a motor vehicle, then perhaps you’ll make it back here alive.”

  “Well, that’s going to be a problem,” Jack began. “First off, I’m going to need my gun.”

  “Gun?” the doctor yelled in amazement. “What are you planning to do with a gun in your condition? You can barely walk.”

  “I’m a cop. I’m going to catch a bad guy,” Jack said with a smirk, again wincing as he took a step. “I don’t suppose you got a cane around here I can borrow, do you?”

  The doctor reluctantly told the nurse to have security bring up Jack’s gun, which was locked in the hospital safe.

  “Use of firearms is certainly against my advice,” the doctor warned. “You’re just as liable to shoot yourself in the foot as hit anything else.”

  “In that case you’ll have something else to patch up. Won’t you, doc?” Jack shot back as security brought his gun in.

  “Now, about that whole driving thing,” Jack said as he took the weapon and checked the chamber. The doctor jumped as the slide slammed back. “I’m going to need to borrow your car.”

  “What?” the doctor yelped.

  “Let me rephrase that,” Jack said, pulling on his clothes over his hospital gown, tucking it in like a t-shirt. “I’m going to need to commandeer your vehicle in the name of the law. Don’t worry. I work for the federal government. We’re good for it.”

  Already realizing arguing was the fast way to a holding cell, the doctor handed over his keys.

  “It’s the blue Kia on the third level in the parking garage,” the doctor revealed.

  “Kia? You’re a doctor for crying out loud,” Jack grinned. “You drive a Kia?”

  “You can’t beat the gas mileage,” the doctor said a bit shamefully. “Try to keep it under a hundred if you don’t mind.”

  “A hundred?” Jack laughed as he went out the door. “I didn’t realize they’d go that fast.”

  Jack knew he had to consolidate his efforts, given the slow pace at which he was limping down the hall. He quickly shot off a text to the office secretary, following it up with a call.

  “I just sent you a text with a person I need checked out,” Jack told the secretary as he exited the elevator and limped into the hospital lobby. “I need everything you can get me on him and I need it immediately.”

  “Agent Looper,” the woman replied. “We heard you’d been seriously injured.”

  “Yeah, that’s what a lot of people are saying,” Jack responded. “Now, just get me the information, and I mean all of it. Don’t let them give you any crap about juvenile records either. If they give you any trouble, tell them my next stop will be their front door and I’ll be there to cuff their ass for obstruction. This is all hands on deck, honey. Anyone in the bureau that gives you grief tell them they best not bother coming in Monday. Am I making myself crystal clear, sweetheart?”

  “Yes sir,” the secretary replied. “And, you sound like the same Jack Looper we’ve all come to know and love. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “E-mail it to my phone as soon as you get it,” Jack ordered just as he lost signal upon walking into the parking garage.

  With the pain in his knee exceeded only by the throbbing in his head, Jack painfully steered the doctor’s car out of the parking garage, laboring to push both pedals with his right foot since he was normally a two-footed driver. His entire body ached and his eyes refused to focus. The doctor was right. He was in no shape to be out of the hospital, let alone driving on his way to confront a serial killer. However, his options were extremely limited. He had to do it or he would most certainly be attending another ranger’s funeral.

  Jack had gotten a little over halfway to Red Boiling Springs by the time the e-mail came through. The message was followed up by a call from the secretary.

  “Oh Jack,” she began. “This is bad.”

  “You have no idea,” Jack replied soberly. “This stays between us for right now, understand?”

  Jack already suspected he knew what he was about to read. He glanced down at his phone while still motoring toward his destination as the sun began to disappear over the horizon. The e-mail confirmed his worst fears. He hadn’t dreamed it up. He pressed the accelerator to the floor, worried he may already be too late.

  He hit the city limits doing eighty, speeding the blue Kia through the town’s network of red-lights. His disregard for the speed limit caught the attention of a policeman working one of the town’s speed traps, clocking him doing eighty in a thirty-mile zone. The chase was on. Jack had no time to explain himself. Catching sight of a sign pointing toward the high school, Jack, who was a veteran of a few high speed chases in his time - although he’d never been the one being chased - gunned the four-cylinder. He wound the motor out as he hit a straightaway and saw the stadium lights. He glanced back to see he was putting space between him and the cop in pursuit.

  “Come on,” Jack said in disgust as he was still looking in the rear view. “I’m in a Kia.”

  Jack slid onto the access road leading to the school and swerved in and out amongst the cars which filled the parking lot.

  “Where could she be?” Jack asked himself as he slid to a stop just outside the football field fence.

  He gritted his teeth in pain as he forced himself out of the car. His knee was stiff as a board after his long drive. He was bathed in blue lights as he stepped from the vehicle.

  “Freeze right there!” the police officer yelled. Jack turned to see the young patrolman’s gun trained on him.

  “I’m a federal agent, son,” Jack said holding up his badge with his good hand. “Now lower that gun or you’ll find yourself working mall security next week.”

  The officer carefully approached to check out the identification. He lowered his gun after looking at Jack’s badge. That’s when he noticed the federal agent’s obvious injuries.

  “What happened to you?” the officer asked as he holstered his gun.

  “I had a little accident,” Jack snapped. “I’m looking for a lady from the state police. She’s about yea high, dark hair, not bad looking.”

  “You mean Ranger Reynolds,” the officer said. “She’s here with another officer.”

  “All units, we have an officer in pursuit of a suspect outside the stadium,” an officer announced over the radio. “We are trying to get a better location. Will advise.”

  Jack didn’t hesitate. He jumped back in the vehicle just as he heard what sounded like a gunshot from the other side of the stadium. He pushed the accelerator to the floor. The Kia fish-tailed on the black top as he circled the stadium toward the sound of the shot.

  Running out of road, Jack jumped a curb and raced through an open field as he tried to trace the direction of the shot. He rolled down his window as he neared a wooded area. He listened over the sound of mud being spun onto the fender as he sloshed through the still-damp field. Then he heard it - another shot! It came from the woods.

  Jack immediately shut off the car’s lights after taking the borrowed vehicle as close as he could to the woods. He then quietly exited the vehicle, willing his knee to bend as he limped his way into the woods.

  He moved at a snail’s pace. He could barely move through the uneven terrain. He froze a few steps into the forest as a blood curdling scream rang out several yards from him. The sound came from the shadows under the canopy. He strained his eyes against the darkness, trying to see the source of the terrified shriek.

  “No!” he heard a voice exclaim from the darkness – it was Ashley!

  Jack forgot his pain as he raced toward the sound of her yells. His knee clicked with every agonizing step as he forced it to bend. He stopped on a dime as he saw two figures silhouetted in the moonlight. Before him was a stunning spectacle – Ashley on the ground straddled by a red-cl
ad demon with a knife drawn back ready to strike!

  “Hold it right there!” Jack ordered in a firm voice, his gun leveled at the unmasked demon. “Richard Buddy Reynolds, you are under arrest.”

  Jack’s restraint in not blowing Buddy to hell was two-fold. First, his head was now spinning from his dash through the woods so soon after his concussion so he couldn’t trust his aim, especially in the limited light with Ashley so close. Second, and perhaps more importantly, the killer they had been looking for was the brother of his partner.

  “You saw me last night, didn’t you Jack?” Buddy said calmly, his knife raised, ready to strike a death blow. “I was afraid of that. It was all going so perfectly up until then.”

  “Put down the knife,” Jack ordered, taking another step closer as he cocked back the hammer on his gun.

  “You know, I was already in Seymour when you called me, wanting me to pick you up after your little airplane accident,” Buddy continued, still brandishing the knife as he stood over his sobbing sister. “It was quite inconvenient dropping everything to give a lift to the people who were trying to catch me.”

  Jack took another step, now almost where he could get a confident shot. His movements, however, were noticed by his quarry. Buddy moved in a flash, putting the knife to Ashley’s throat, taking cover behind her and using her like a shield.

  “See, you were supposed to die,” Buddy revealed. “Who survives a plane crash? Come on.”

  Jack took a couple of steps to his right, hoping to get a better angle if he needed to take a shot.

  “But, in the end, it all just added to the excitement,” Buddy said as a maniacal grin crossed his face. “You didn’t even realize the Iron Eagle was in the plane with us the whole time. You were leaning against the bag it was in the entire flight, Jack. And, you call yourself a detective? Oh, and the police there, they were so friendly. They gave me a ride over to the field, with my suit in the bag, when I called and told them you needed me at the stadium. Wasn’t that nice, Jack?”

  Jack’s finger tightened around the trigger as he wondered when back up would arrive. Buddy was obviously insane, a homicidal psychopath who was capable of anything, even slashing his own sister’s throat.

  “We can get you some help, Buddy,” Jack said, hoping to lure him into a conversation. He needed to buy time until the other officers figured out where they were.

  “Help, Jack? Are you serious?” Buddy said between clenched teeth as he pressed the large hunting knife harder against his sister’s throat. “I’m beyond help. That’s what all of them said after my old man tried to get me help back in high school. I didn’t need any help, Jack. I can help myself as you can see.”

  Jack learned from the e-mail background on Buddy that it wasn’t military school he attended during his late teenage years but was instead mental facilities from which he would get furloughs. His stays under mental care were carefully kept from Ashley who was allowed to believe Buddy was in private school. It was their family’s dirty little secret, something else Ashley was never told.

  “If my old man had kept his nose out of my business then I would have taken care of everything,” Buddy bragged. “But he couldn’t mind his own business.”

  Jack had also learned of the killings of a teen named Rance Riggs and a girl he was dating. The pair was found sliced to pieces ten years ago near Lover’s Leap.

  “You killed Rance Riggs, didn’t you?” Jack wondered as he continued trying to circle Buddy who foiled him by continuing to mirror his movements.

  “He had it coming just like the rest of them,” Buddy declared defiantly. “Unfortunately, my old man had to interfere. He was too good of a detective for his own good. Just like my sister.”

  Ashley had been listening the whole time, feeling the cold steel of her brother’s blade pressed against her throat. She remained quiet, hoping for an opportunity to make her move. However, she didn’t dare even flinch as the knife was firmly against her windpipe.

  Her silent strategizing was interrupted by Buddy’s reference to her father. What did he mean he was too good of a detective for his own good? The trauma she endured when she unmasked her brother as a serial killer was about to pale in comparison.

  “He put it together,” Buddy continued as Ashley cut her eyes toward him. “He was going to turn me in. Can you believe that, Jack? My own father was going to turn me in and let me spend the rest of my life rotting away in jail or in an asylum somewhere. Well, I couldn’t have that so I had to make sure he didn’t talk.”

  Ashley stirred as the realization hit her. Buddy had killed their parents. Buddy tightened his grip on his sister. Blood trickled from her neck as her movement caused the razor sharp blade to slice into her skin.

  “What are you getting all excited about there, sis?” Buddy said, turning his attention away from Jack for a moment. “You’re the reason I’m doing this.”

  All Ashley could do was glare up at him with a questioning look.

  “Once you came along, it was always about you,” Buddy snarled. “Poor little Ashley had to have all their attention. They forgot they had a son. All they thought about was you. Poor little sickly Ashley had to be coddled all the time or she’d break. How I wish you’d never been born!”

  Buddy’s hate-filled eyes pierced through the dimness of the forest as he looked down at her, his glare suggesting he was perfectly willing to slit her throat.

  “I thought about letting you burn that night,” Buddy admitted. “But, it wasn’t time yet. I figured you might be useful to me someday and what do you know, you were. What were the chances my very own sister would be trying to catch me? I watched you like a hawk after you told me you’d been assigned to the case. You made things easy for me, even tonight.”

  “Huh?” Ashley whispered, forcing the gasp past the steel pressed against her voice box.

  “Well, first you delivered the man who’s going to take the blame for all this right to me,” Buddy revealed. “Jana’s lover boy is locked away in a storage shed just waiting to be found. Don’t worry. He’s very much alive, just with a slight concussion.”

  Randy had made the mistake of being shuffled from the stadium by the cheerleaders at half-time, trotting toward the field house with the crowd. He found himself on the outside looking in when he had to stop at the door to the girl’s dressing room. Realizing he was exposed without his back up, he had immediately started back toward the lights and relative safety of the stadium. His return was stopped short when he was struck from behind, the crack of a shovel across the back of his head rendering him unconscious. Buddy had then drug him to the storage shed where he planned to finish the job in private.

  “Imagine my surprise when I pulled off his mask to find lover boy underneath,” Buddy grinned. “That’s when it hit me. It was meant to be. The stars aligned for me.”

  Buddy knew there would be enough suspicion to link Randy to the murders.

  “He’ll be able to stand trial and fry for this string of grisly murders,” Buddy proudly proclaimed. “What a motive. His girlfriend the cop finds out her boyfriend is a serial killer but gets killed before she can do the right thing. This stuff is better than fiction.”

  “I figure I can sneak back around and put a little blood on his red demon costume before anyone finds him. Then, all it will take is a little detective work. Meanwhile, I can take a well-deserved rest until it’s time to come out and do some more hunting in a few years. All this killing is hard on a man. I wouldn’t want to burn myself out.”

  “Too bad that ain’t going to work out for you, Buddy,” Jack said. “You ain’t leaving these woods alive.”

  Buddy gave Ashley another big smile as she felt the knife loosen for an instant. Jack wasn’t the only one stalling for time.

  “One of us will,” Buddy declared as he brought up Ashley’s gun and fired. The concussion of the blast next to her head popped her eardrum.

  Buddy had picked up the gun in the darkness before he chased her down. He had used Ashl
ey’s body to hide the weapon until Jack moved into position for him to get the perfect shot. Jack had been focused on the knife at Ashley’s neck, never realizing Buddy was clutching a gun in his other hand.

  Jack fell back and disappeared into the brush as the round struck him.

  “Jack!” Ashley called out as her brother removed the knife from her throat and began making his way toward his fallen prey.

  “Stay right there,” Buddy ordered as he pointed the gun at his sister. “I’ll be back to take care of you in a second, sis.”

  The blast hit Jack in the shoulder, the safety slug lodging in his shoulder blade as it almost passed through his body given the close range. Buddy found Jack panting in the weeds, clutching his wounded shoulder.

  “Sorry about this, Jack,” Buddy said as he approached with Ashley’s gun in his hand. “I kind of liked you. Maybe in the next life we can be friends.”

  With that, Buddy raised the gun and pointed it at Jack’s head as the wounded agent closed his eyes, anticipating the shot.

  “You should have let me burn,” Ashley rasped from just behind her brother. In the thrill of the moment he didn’t hear her approach.

  “Why is that?” Buddy sneered as he again took aim at Jack’s head. “I told you I’d take care of you in a minute. You never could listen, could you?”

  Ashley didn’t answer. Instead the cocking of the hammer of a gun served as her retort. She had brought Jack’s back up gun with her, drawing it from her ankle holster once her brother turned his back to finish off Jack. She was close enough that she didn’t need glasses to hit her target.

  Buddy’s sneer disappeared as he sensed the gun pointing at the back of his head. He found it difficult to believe his sister had outsmarted him in the game of human chess.

  “You wouldn’t shoot your brother in the back, would you?” Buddy asked, already determined he would whirl around and shoot his sister.

  “No,” Ashley replied softly. “Because then you might live. I’m going to shoot you in the head.”