“What now?” Susan stopped breathing.
“Pastor Dwayne Michaels was shot and killed outside his church just a little while ago.”
Susan’s eyes watered with tears. “Oh my god.”
“Susan,” Benjamin’s voice dropped to a whispery breath, “I’m worried about you.”
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Allison learned of it first. When Erin flicked on her police scanner app, we knew it was true. There was a murder at the pastor’s church. Without hearing the details, I knew it was him.
“No. No. No,” I cried.
We were too late. I had lost connection with King and couldn’t get through to him again no matter how many times I tried. We’d known the pastor’s life was in danger, yet we’d done nothing. Not even he’d known how to stop what was coming.
A sharp pain of guilt stabbed me in the side. I ran out of the room and barreled my way into the tiny bathroom in Allison’s office. Falling on my knees, I heaved my stomach into the toilet. Pellets of sweat filled my face. When there was nothing left inside of me, I dropped my bottom to the floor and fell back against the wall.
Crying, I knew this was Chandler. No doubt about it.
We were so close, even had him pinned as the suspect we were after, yet we couldn’t get to him fast enough.
I swiped my hand over my face, wiping the tears away from my cheeks. Forcing myself to my feet, I stood at the sink swishing cold water in my mouth. When I swept my gaze up to the mirror, I stared into my own reflection and said, “Don’t give up, Sam. Go get him and make him pay.”
It was the pep talk I needed to hear. As difficult as it was to know the pastor had been killed, there was still at least one other person we knew for sure that Chandler wanted to take out.
I ran back into the office and found Erin already getting ready to hit the road. Allison had her head buried in one hand and, when I went to hug her, I said, “I love you, baby. This will all be over soon.”
“My eyes are blurry.” She flicked her gaze up to me and flashed a weak smile. “That’s all.”
I reminder her about Lieutenant being a target, and Allison told me to go.
Erin and I dashed to her car and raced to Pastor Michaels’s church. I wasn’t sure what we were going to find or why we’d chosen to come here instead of searching for Lieutenant Baker, but maybe I was hoping to find King already on scene. And maybe luck would have it that Lieutenant would be here, too.
The moment we arrived on the church’s street, we were stopped and couldn’t get past the police barricade. With my pulse throbbing, I was on high alert. Keeping an eye out for anything that might give me some kind of answer to what had happened, it didn’t take me long to see several detectives canvassing for possible witnesses to the crime.
I hit redial on King’s number.
He still didn’t pick up his phone and panic knocked the air out of me.
Spinning in circles, I watched the lab team begin collecting evidence and witnessed people being interviewed by the cops. There were too many obstacles in my line of vision to know where the pastor had been shot—inside or outside, I didn’t know. My guess was outside, given our shooter’s history.
Holding one hand on top of my head, I didn’t like the casual energy surrounding me. No one seemed to be in a rush. Even the paramedics had the back of the ambulance shut with lights off.
I palmed my cell and checked the display screen again.
The coroner arrived and I followed him to the body I knew to be that of the pastor.
A tremor rocked my core so hard it nearly knocked my feet out from under me. I swallowed down a deep breath and stared. A sheet already covered his body and suddenly a flashflood of memories came swirling to the front of my mind.
The day Pastor Michaels officiated my marriage to Gavin. The compassion he always held for members of his community. The concern I saw in his eyes the other day when he asked about Mason. Even my conversation in the park last night.
Everything went quiet as I felt the stone harden in my throat.
“I’m going to go try to find out what happened,” Erin said.
I nodded, unable to get a single word past my constricted throat. Then I felt my cellphone vibrate inside my hand. Excitement filled my lungs with a wistful breath.
“Irene, I’m at the church,” I said, assuming she had already heard the news and that was the reason for her call.
She caught me off guard when she asked, “Is Mason with you?”
Bile gurgled up my esophagus as I felt my insides try to wring out what little there might still be in my stomach. “No, I thought he was with you.”
Irene remained silent and I felt the tips of my toes go numb. I was too afraid to ask.
“Mason is gone.”
I closed my eyes, willing myself to stay strong. “Did he tell you he was leaving?”
“He said he was going to the corner store. That he wouldn’t be long. That was over an hour ago. I’m sorry, Sam. I know I shouldn’t have allowed him to leave with all that is going on out there in the neighborhood, but he convinced me that he would be quick.”
“It’s not your fault, Irene.”
“I didn’t know what to do. I feel awful.”
“I’ll give him a call,” I said, promising to keep her in the loop. “I think I might know where he ran off to.”
Chapter Seventy
I left Erin at the church to continue piecing together what happened to the pastor. She promised she’d call if King arrived or if she learned anything that might be useful in tracking down Chandler. She handed me the keys to her car and I was off to find Mason.
I chewed on a fingernail as I drove.
Even with unease keeping my body rigid, I tried to convince myself that Mason’s disappearance was one big misunderstanding. He was a sixteen-year-old boy struggling to communicate not only his feelings but his plans. We had all been there. But his timing couldn’t be worse.
Within minutes I was rolling into the convenience store Grandma Irene thought Mason said he was running off to. I parked and entered the small store, heading directly to the clerk hiding behind the front cash register.
“I’m looking for my son. He said he was coming here about an hour ago. Have you seen him?” I flipped my phone around and showed the older black man an image of Mason.
He studied it for a minute before shaking his head. “Nope. Haven’t seen him.”
“Are you sure? He would have been here alone.”
His grey eyes moved back to the picture of Mason. “No one his age came here alone.”
I lowered my head and felt my heart shrink. “If he comes in, please call me.” I left my Times card with the clerk and stepped out of the building, putting a call in to Mason.
Nothing. Straight to voicemail.
I glanced up the block and back down the other way, convinced Mason had gone to visit Nolan. I just couldn’t see him doing anything else. It was what he wanted to do, and something I promised him we could do together if I found a moment’s break. Mason had to be there.
Once back inside Erin’s car, I backed away and pointed the car west, driving to St. Joseph Hospital.
Mason had done this before and, in the end, it had been nothing, or at least not as big as I’d made it out to be at the time. I didn’t want to overreact but I hated not knowing where he was or why he didn’t tell anyone the truth of where he was going.
Or, maybe he did tell the truth and something happened to him?
I withdrew inside myself, shriveling up like a raisin, convincing my brain that the fears it was conjuring up were entirely irrational. But even I knew it was a lie. My fears were real. The school shooting proved that. Tim wanted Mason dead, and maybe Chandler did, too.
I slapped the flat part of my hand on the steering wheel and shrieked out a curse.
Pinching back the threat of tears pooling in the backs of my eyes, I tried calling him again.
It went straight to voicemail and I knew he had turned
his phone off or the battery had died.
Fifteen minutes passed in mostly a blur. As soon as I reached the hospital, I dove the hood of my car into the dark belly of the parking garage, stopping at the gate and punching the button to retrieve my ticket.
My legs grew restless as it seemed to take forever in finding an open parking space but, finally, I did. It wasn’t too far from the building’s entrance, the doors unlocked.
Galloping through the hallways, I headed to the west wing and rode the elevator to the fifth floor. Nolan’s door was open when I arrived and a flood of optimism perked up my eyes.
Time slowed as I approached and, when I noticed the silence inside the room, I knew that Mason wasn’t here.
Natalie was sitting in the corner arm chair reading when I knocked. She lifted her head and I smiled and greeted Nolan. “Natalie, can I speak to you?”
Her brows pinched as she made her way across the room. She folded her arms across her chest when she stepped into the hallway. “Hey, Sam, about last night, I’m sorry I left like I did.”
“Water under the bridge.” I could tell by the look in her eye she hadn’t seen the news unfolding. “Have you seen Mason?”
She shook her head. “No. Not since yesterday.”
My phone beeped with an email notification and I glanced down to see that it was from Nancy Jordan. Without thinking, I opened it and read it in front of Natalie.
As promised, here is the information I have. Professor Dean Croft was behind the $10K donation to the Morris family. Now maybe you could tell me why he would do that.
“Sam…” Natalie brought me back to the present.
“I don’t know where he is,” I said, meeting her eye. My voice cracked when I told her how he’d just left and never come back from his grandparents’ house. As I talked, I could see my own terror reflecting in Natalie’s pupils.
“Maybe Nolan knows where he is?” Natalie stepped back into the room and I heard her ask her son if he had heard from Mason when I received a call from an unknown number.
I stared at my phone, debating whether or not I should answer.
It could have been work, a source, someone tied to the pastor, or even…Mason.
I tapped the green call button with my thumb and answered. “Hello.”
“I thought maybe you wouldn’t answer.” His voice sent a chill down my spine.
A sharp pain settled in my jaw as black spots filled my vision. I wobbled on my feet when I said, “What do you want, Chandler?”
“To meet.”
Hot breath spewed from my nostrils as I reminded myself of the people he had killed. “I have nothing to say to you.”
A psychotic shrill of laughter filled my ear. “Maybe not, but,” his tone flatlined into something dangerous, “I have something I know you want.”
My hand flew over my mouth to stifle the moan working its way up my chest. “You’re making a big mistake.”
He gave me the address and told me a time. Then he said, “Come alone and don’t even think about involving the police. Trust me, you’ll regret it if you do.”
Chapter Seventy-One
“He called you?” Erin couldn’t believe it either. “Chandler actually called you?”
I was lucky Erin answered at all. Not wanting to chance Chandler’s intelligence, I played it safe and asked Natalie if I could make the call from her phone. She happily agreed without asking too many questions. With Mason gone, and Nolan not having heard from him either, Natalie understood everything I was feeling. But I couldn’t tell her that maybe Mason had been kidnapped. I kept that piece of the puzzle a secret.
“Yeah, just now.” I kept glancing over my shoulder, thinking I was being watched. It was that prickling feeling that wouldn’t go away. I kept telling myself that maybe Chandler had seen me at the church and followed me here to the hospital.
“Sam, it’s pretty tight-lipped over here but it was definitely him who killed the pastor. You shouldn’t go. Especially not alone.”
I bit my lip, wishing I had the guts to tell Erin that Chandler had Mason. “Just find King and tell him where I’ll be.”
“Sam,” she protested.
Finally, I snapped. “I think he has Mason.”
“Did he say that?”
“He said ‘I have something I know you want.’ Mason is missing and he’s what I want.”
“Shit.”
Erin didn’t have to say it. I knew Chandler wanted to finish what he started. Maybe he realized killing Lieutenant Baker would prove too difficult so he decided to take an easier target. One that would not only get my attention but that of the department he’d declared war against, too.
There was movement behind me and, when I turned, I found Natalie staring with trembling eyes. She’d overheard what I just said. I couldn’t take it back, couldn’t cover my tracks. The secret was out. Covering her mouth with her hand, tears began falling from her eyes.
“There is no other way,” I said to Erin, making sure to lower my voice. “I have to go.”
“Then let me come with you.”
“I can’t. Chandler said to come alone and to keep the police out of it. That’s why I called you from this phone. In case he’s somehow tracking me.”
“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
Neither did I, but I kept my fears to myself.
“Then keep your wits about you and stall him for as long as you can until help arrives.”
As Erin’s words became reality, the severity of my situation finally sank in and buried itself deep. My outlook was grim, but it was our only option.
“Just find King. I’ll see you there.” I killed the call before I started to cry.
Natalie wasn’t too far and I moved to her, thanking her again for allowing me to borrow her phone. Staring into her watery gaze, I said, “Don’t worry. This will all be over soon.”
Chapter Seventy-Two
My heart hammered inside my chest. Sweat poured down my sides, my nerves heating my core to an intolerable level. Even with the window cracked, there was nothing I could do to cool down.
I was afraid Chandler might take Mason away from me; scared that I might do something to get myself killed and leave Mason all alone. But, mostly, I was terrified of what might happen if I didn’t confront Chandler. There was no telling what he might do next, how far he might take this battle of his or if it would even end with the killing of Lieutenant Baker.
With one eye on the lookout for traffic cops, I kept my foot heavy on the accelerator as I sped my way from St. Joseph’s toward Denver International Airport.
I checked my phone.
I wanted so badly to get in touch with Mason or King but decided against it.
I hadn’t heard back from anyone and all I could hope was that Erin would find King before time ran out.
It didn’t take me long before I was exiting off Pena Boulevard and heading north on Tower Road. Making my way to the very open and exposed USAirport Parking area, all I could think about was how foolish it was for me to agree to meet an expert sniper, here of all places.
The tires slowly rolled over cold pavement and I listened to the pebbles crack and grind as they crumbled beneath the car’s weight. I took my ticket at the gate and worked to find an empty spot when my phone chimed with a message from Chandler.
Drive to the far eastern end of the parking lot. I’ll meet you there.
I did as I was told despite feeling like this was a setup to put me in the crosshairs as he’d done to the pastor. But I needed to get Mason back.
I chose a spot between a black Toyota Sequoia and a bright red Ford F250. I figured they could shield me from a bullet if that was what Chandler had planned for me. Better to play it safe than risking it all.
You better have what I want, I messaged back, then stepped out of the car and began looking around.
The gusts of wind were relentless and the cold air nipped at my nose. Tumbleweeds scurried across the windswept grass and I caught sigh
t of a jack rabbit darting his way through the field. Back on the other side, I watched an airport shuttle scoot along picking up and dropping off passengers. Other than that, I was out here alone—giving Chandler exactly what he wanted.
As I stood there waiting, my mind kept playing tricks on me. I kept hearing my phone ring when it didn’t, and there was a very real feeling that Chandler was watching me from afar through his rifle scope. But I stood between the big vehicles with my hands buried in my pockets and continued to wait.
I just wanted Mason back.
To get him home safely.
We weren’t part of Chandler’s fight. Somehow, Chandler had made it our concern the moment Tim decided to make Mason a target.
Staring at the parking lot entrance, I watched a black Honda Civic stop at the gate.
I kept an eye on it from behind the Toyota. It slowly rolled east, getting closer. My stomach tensed and anticipated this to be the arrival of my guest. Its window tint was so dark it was impossible to see inside. Squinting through the sun’s glare, I couldn’t know for sure if it was Chandler or not. I watched it weave through the rows before finally coming down the lane where I was parked.
It had to be Chandler.
Stepping out just far enough for the driver to see me, there was a brief burst of engine before stopping not more than five feet away from where I stood.
The passenger window rolled down and I held my breath. Chandler’s piercing green eyes stared as he said, “Get inside.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, remembering Erin’s advice to stall for as long as I could.
Chandler grinned, glanced forward, and shook his head. Then he lifted his arm and pointed a gun, aiming it between my eyes. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
Bell Hath No Fury Page 25
