One-Night Alibi

by Kara Lennox

  Knightly spun wildly, trying to get Tonda off his back. He reached behind him with the gun and attempted to whack her in the head with it, but Tonda somehow managed to wiggle around and avoid the worst of the blows.

  Finally, he just backed up against a wall with enough force to stun her. Then he swung her off and flung her literally across the room.

  She collided with a lamp, slid across a small table and crashed into the front window. The window shattered, and Tonda hurtled all the way through to the outside with a horrendous scream. Elizabeth heard the smack of Tonda’s body hitting the concrete outside.

  Suddenly it was deathly quiet. Knightly was staring out the window, then back at Elizabeth, as if he wasn’t sure what had just happened. But he was no longer smiling.

  * * *

  “SHE’S STILL NOT answering,” Joe said. “Mitch is bringing an ultrasensitive microphone. We can use it to eavesdrop right through the wall.”

  The urge to just bash down Tonda’s door was almost too strong to resist. But bumbling into a hostage situation could get someone killed.

  “We need a plan.”

  “Daniel is attempting to get hold of the building manager now.”

  “Do these apartments have back doors?”

  Joe nodded. “There’s an alley. We’ve got people stationed back there.”

  That was when he heard the shot.

  His heart in his throat, he looked at Joe and Carla. They each nodded; they were going in.

  That was when the front window of Tonda’s apartment shattered and a large mass came hurtling out. The mass was a female human being. Her head and shoulders landed hard on the concrete porch, and she somersaulted over the edge into some low bushes.

  Hudson couldn’t breathe until he realized it wasn’t Liz.

  “Tonda,” he told Joe and Carla, feeling awful for his attitude toward her. She wasn’t tough; she was a crumpled, bleeding little girl.

  “He’s got a gun,” Tonda screamed. She lay partly in the shrubs, obviously injured or she’d have got up and run. “He’s gonna kill us!”

  Carla spoke softly into her radio. Sounded as if she was calling for Ronnie, then for emergency medical. Hudson wanted to do something for Tonda, but protocol dictated that they had to secure the area first before helping the injured. Otherwise, whoever was inside that apartment could shoot them all like fish in a barrel.

  Liz was in there. It took every ounce of willpower Hudson had, and then some, not to throw protocol out the window and go to her.

  Joe quickly reported to the rest of his team what was going on. Ford Hyatt and Jillian were covering the back door. Griffin Benedict and Celeste joined them in the front. Celeste, seeing the injured woman, tutted.

  “We should at least get her out of the line of fire.”

  Seeing that Celeste was about to take matters into her own hands, Hudson put a hand on her arm to stop her. “I’ll do it.”

  “I’ll cover you.” Celeste, her neon-orange chiffon shirt ruffles hanging out of her Kevlar vest, stepped into clear view of whoever was inside that apartment and pointed a gun the size of a small cannon. “I dare you to shoot me.”

  Not exactly standard police procedure, but Hudson darted out, grabbed Tonda by the shoulders and dragged her to the relative cover around the side of the building. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable journey for her, but it was the safest way to move her if she had a spinal injury. Her eyes were closed, her face tense with pain. But at least she was alive.

  It was quiet inside the apartment. Hudson returned to the front porch. The other three of his compatriots flanked the front window. Hudson joined them. By now, Todd Knightly knew he wasn’t alone.

  “Todd,” Hudson called. “There’s no way you’re getting out of this. You might as well cut your losses. Come out with your hands up.”

  Nothing.

  Hudson broke off a long, slender branch from the bushes that lined the porch. He used it to reach through the shattered window, snag the curtains and slowly open them. The sight that greeted him chilled his blood. Todd Knightly stood in the center of the room with Liz in a headlock, his gun pointed at her temple.

  “No one come any closer,” Knightly said, his voice calm, even. “I will kill her. You saw what I did to Tonda.”

  “Don’t hurt her,” Hudson begged. He hated it that he’d been reduced to pleading with a bottom-feeding bastard like Knightly. “We won’t move.”

  “Lower your weapons.”

  “That’s not gonna happen,” Hudson said. “Every person out here is a cop or former cop. You know what our directives are.”

  “Fine. Keep your weapons wherever you want. I’m leaving. With her.” He nodded at Liz.

  “Whose blood is that?” Hudson demanded.

  Knightly didn’t answer. “My car is out back. Tell whoever is back there to clear the area. I’m going out the back door. I’m taking Ms. Downey with me,” he said again. “If I see anybody who looks like a cop or a Project Justice person or an undercover anything, if I see a suspicious-looking dog or a cat or a bird, I will shoot her clean through the head. Is that clear?”

  “Crystal,” Hudson ground out. No way was he letting this turd take Liz away.

  He had a clean shot. He could nail Knightly in the head, drop him where he stood. Problem with that was, Knightly’s index finger was tight against the trigger, the muzzle of the gun pressed against Liz’s head. A reflex action could kill her.

  “If you hurt her,” Hudson said, “I’ll end you.”

  Liz’s eyes were huge. She was apparently too terrified to say anything, to do anything. She was paralyzed.

  “I’m not going to hurt her. Soon as I get away clean, I’ll let her out.”

  Would he? Hudson wasn’t so sure. Knightly knew Hudson cared for Liz. Loved her. He’d already committed two murders, possibly a third if Tonda didn’t make it. He would think nothing of killing Liz out of pure, venomous spite.

  “Call your people off,” Knightly said again. “Do it now.”

  Hudson exchanged a look with Joe, then nodded. He would at least pretend to be going along with Knightly’s plan.

  Joe spoke into his earpiece. “You guys need to stand down. He’s coming out the back and he has a hostage. He says he’ll kill her if he sees anybody.”

  Knightly began slowly backing up, never taking his eyes off Hudson.

  Hudson had to do something. No way was he going along with this plan.

  Liz spoke, but her voice was so faint, he couldn’t quite make it out.

  “What?”

  “I’m really scared.”

  That was their code. Jesus, what did she mean by that?

  She was trying to tell him something. She was going to do something. He tensed, ready for anything.

  Suddenly she dropped. It looked as if every muscle in her body went limp. She fell like a stone, sliding down against Knightly’s body.

  Surprised, Knightly took about half a second to tighten his grip on her. During that half a second, his gun was no longer pointed at Liz.

  Hudson didn’t hesitate. He shot Knightly in the head. Death was instantaneous.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  KNIGHTLY AND LIZ fell in a heap. Even in death, his arm continued to grip her. Hudson leaped through the window. Carla, Joe, Celeste and Griffin were right behind him.

  Joe grabbed Knightly’s gun and took it out of his grip, though there was no need. Knightly wasn’t shooting anyone, ever again. Hudson pulled the dead cop’s arm off Liz and she flew into his embrace.

  “It’s okay. It’s all over. You’re safe.”

  “Tonda,” she said. “We have to help Tonda.”

  “Medical help is on the way. Baby, you’re hurt, too.” Clearly the blood he’d seen hadn’t all come from Knightly and Tonda.

  “I know. He shot me,” she said matter-of-factly, and he realized she was going into shock. He scooped her off the ground and carried her toward the door. He had to get her out of this nightmarish scene where the smell
s of death and gunpowder mingled noxiously.

  Carla stopped him. “Um, Hudson? Your gun?”

  He still had the gun clutched in his hand. He loosened his grip. “Take it.”

  Carla took charge of his gun. He’d killed someone. A fellow cop, no less. There would have to be an investigation. Another investigation.

  He didn’t care. As long as Liz survived.

  “Paramedics are on their way,” Carla said. “Take her outside. Everybody!” she called to the Project Justice people. “This is a crime scene now. I need everybody to clear out. I know this isn’t our department’s jurisdiction, but my directive is to secure the scene until Houston officers arrive.”

  She didn’t have to tell them twice. They filed out the front door with Hudson. Celeste jumped out the window.

  Outside, neighbors and strangers were already milling about, wanting to see what was going on. They wouldn’t answer their doors and offer information that might have prevented this, but they sure were quick to want to watch the aftermath.

  “You saved my life,” Liz said, her voice full of wonder.

  “I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t taken action. You were so smart to use the code. You were amazing.”

  “I was a terrified blob of Jell-O. I think I might have wet my pants.”

  An ambulance pulled up, Ronnie and the cruiser right behind.

  “Two injured,” Hudson called out to the paramedics as he carried Liz toward the ambulance. “We have a gunshot wound here.”

  “Tonda first,” Liz pleaded. “My injury is minor.”

  “You were shot. That is not minor.”

  “The night we met, you said getting shot was rare. Now look at me.”

  He was encouraged by the fact she could find any kind of humor in this situation. People didn’t make jokes if they were about to die, did they?

  One paramedic, a woman, headed for Tonda. The other, a male, came to Liz. Hudson was reluctant to let her go, but he set her on a patch of grass, and the paramedic started cutting her sweater away from her injured arm. Hudson wished the female one was attending Liz. He felt a totally inappropriate wave of jealousy as he watched this strange man touching his Liz, seeing her with only half a sweater.

  She winced as he cleaned blood off her arm and examined the entry wound. “Bullet’s still in there,” the medic said. “There’s a lot of blood. You probably nicked an artery. Best thing we can do is try to stop the bleeding and get you transported ASAP. Do you have any other injuries I should be looking at?” He pulled a roll of gauze from his bag and began wrapping her arm.

  Liz pointed to her head. “Knightly hit me over the head when I entered Tonda’s apartment.”

  Hudson held his breath as the medic took a look. That was when he saw Liz had blood in her hair, too.

  “You better not die on me, Liz,” Hudson said. “Not after I went to all this trouble to find you.”

  “I’m okay. I feel curiously free from pain. Earlier I hurt so bad I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak or move. But now there’s this sort of euphoria. Relief, maybe...” She glanced over at Tonda, who was apparently conscious. More paramedics had arrived, and Tonda was moving a bit, but she cried out in pain when they put her on a gurney.

  “Tonda...”

  “She’s conscious and moving and feeling pain. Those are all actually good signs.” Hudson didn’t say so, but it worried him that Liz didn’t hurt. The situation had probably caused adrenaline to flood her system by the gallon; sometimes adrenaline could dull pain. But what if it meant something else?

  Cop cars arrived in droves. If it was a slow day, every cruiser within five miles would show up, just in case they were needed.

  Hudson realized he wouldn’t be allowed the luxury of contact with Liz much longer. They would take him away and interrogate everybody ten ways to Sunday until they’d satisfied themselves that they knew exactly what had gone down here. Then Hudson would be taken into custody. No way around it. It would take many more hours to take everyone’s statements and verify that Todd Knightly had been holding two women against their will, and longer still to prove he was a murderer. Even then, Hudson wasn’t sure he was out of the woods, legally speaking. He had deliberately fled to avoid arrest.

  It would all have to be sorted out later between the two departments, Houston and Montgomery County.

  He didn’t care. He’d sworn that if Liz’s life was spared, any other breaks he caught would be gravy.

  With limited time left, he realized he needed to say something.

  “Liz, we don’t have much time,” he said. “But I want to tell you something. It’s really important.”

  She blinked at him in surprise but said nothing.

  “I know you don’t think we have much in common, but we do. The deep-down, important stuff. I know I’ve made some mistakes, and I’m sorry. But I swear, I’ll do better. What I’m saying is, I want us to have another chance. I’ll trust your instincts. I’ll learn to see the world how you see it—”

  “This time, my instincts...were wrong.” Her words were slow, a little breathy. “I should have...listened to you. You knew it was...a trap.”

  “None of that matters. What does matter is that I love you. More than my freedom, more than my life... Liz?”

  Her eyes were closed.

  “Liz? Are you okay?”

  She didn’t answer. She’d fallen unconscious.

  * * *

  ELIZABETH WAS FLOATING on a pleasant sea made of pink clouds. Her mother was right next to her, looking still young and beautiful, not much older than Elizabeth. They both relaxed in lounge chairs sipping some kind of fruity, frozen umbrella drinks.

  “Did he really kill you, Mom?” It should have been a painful conversation, but oddly, it wasn’t.

  “Yes, he did. I wanted to take you away from him.”

  “And did he bury you in the backyard and put a tennis court over you?”

  “I don’t really know about that, sweetheart. I sort of stopped paying attention once I was dead. But it’s really great to see you. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman.”

  “Am I dead?”

  “That’s...undetermined. But if you are, don’t worry. It’s really nice here.”

  I love you, Liz.

  Wait. That was Hudson’s voice. Elizabeth looked around, but didn’t see him.

  “Someone’s talking to you.” Her mother sounded faintly amused. “Someone who is definitely not dead.”

  Don’t you dare leave me.

  “It’s Hudson. He shot a man to save my life. At least, I think he did. It would be awful if I died anyway, after he went to all that trouble.”

  “Sounds like he cares for you.”

  “He does. He must. Mom, I think I’m in love with him.”

  “So, go back to him.”

  “Can I do that?”

  She shrugged, as if they were talking about buying a dress. “It’s up to you.”

  That was when her head started to hurt. In fact, everything hurt. Her mother went away. The pink clouds vanished. Elizabeth lay on a hard bed with a scratchy sheet.

  She was still alive. Thank God.

  She cracked one eye open, and the first thing she saw was Hudson’s face, about six inches from hers.

  “Liz?”

  “Mmm.” That was all she could manage.

  “You’re gonna be okay. Do you remember what happened? You were shot.”

  She tried to nod, but her body didn’t want to cooperate. Yes, she remembered everything.

  “Ya,” she managed. “Shot.”

  “They took you into surgery and removed the bullet. Put some stitches in your head, too. Gave you about a gallon of blood. But the doctor said you’d be fine.”

  “Good.” Suddenly she remembered...“Tonda?”

  “She’s okay. Pretty beat-up. Couple of broken ribs. But she’s going to be fine, too.”

  “The baby?”

  Hudson looked at the floor and slowly shook his head.

>   “Oh, no.” Elizabeth could hardly imagine how Tonda must feel. Even though the pregnancy was unplanned, it had been obvious that Tonda already loved her unborn child. “How is she taking it?”

  “She’s upset. Jackson is with her, refuses to leave her side. He seems pretty shaken up, too.”

  That was interesting. Maybe Jackson wasn’t all bad.

  Suddenly Elizabeth remembered something. “I went to heaven.”

  Hudson raised one dubious eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Well, I dreamed I went to heaven and saw my mother. Do you really think people sit around on pink clouds in heaven and drink daiquiris? That’s how my mom used to describe it. Except she said they drank lemonade. I was too young to know what a daiquiri was.”

  “I...have no idea what people do in heaven. Maybe it’s like a garden. With hummingbirds.”

  She managed to smile. “That would be nice, too. Oh, Hudson, you were right about everything. This whole business happened because my father killed my mother. Knightly found out about it and tried to blackmail him. But instead of paying him off in cash, Dad gave Knightly a chunk of his criminal business.”

  “We don’t have to talk about this now, if you don’t want to.”

  “No, I think we should. I need to talk about it while it’s fresh in my mind.”

  She told him everything, recounting Knightly’s words as closely as possible.

  “So your dad sent Munch to kill me just because I arrested him?”

  “My father’s reputation and standing in the community meant everything to him. You threatened that. He knew you could identify Jazz, and you saw the exchange of cash. You could have caused his whole world to come crashing down.”

  “Then, when Munch bungled the job, your dad decided to eliminate him.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “But Munch suspected my dad’s intention. He called Knightly for protection. Then Knightly, seeing an opportunity, killed my dad. At first he intended to blame it on Munch.”

  “Until he came up with better scapegoats—me and Carla. He must have given Munch her gun. Maybe he was planning our downfall for a long time, even stealing my DNA and Carla’s gun, waiting for just the right opportunity.”