by Carol Coffey
“Oh, hush now, Francis, I didn’t kill her. She was too useful for me. Same height, weight, even the same colour hair. We could have been sisters. In fact, right now, she is me.”
Locklear went against all of his rules and lifted his phone to turn on the recording device. He knew the recording would probably be inadmissible in court but it was worth a try. He also knew now who had told Stoll that Esther Fehr had been arrested and brought to Dayton station. Maguire was the rat but Locklear still felt sorry for the man. He had had no choice and would now lose the only thing he had left in the world: his job. Or his life.
“You are an evil woman, Stoll. Did you kill Helena Wyss? Did you kill Peter’s wife? He was my friend. Why did you have to do that? They were good people!”
“Yes, I’m afraid that I did have to put an end to Helena. She wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to know.”
“She didn’t know anything. She was a farmer. A simple woman.”
“She knew where exactly Luke Fehr was hiding. If she’d told me, she’d be alive now living her miserable existence.”
“It’s you who has a miserable existence. Nothing is ever enough for you. After I told you about Anabel you came back for more. You said if I told you if Locklear got the box, you’d free me, that I’ve have paid my debts. I did what you asked. I ruined my career. My reputation. I did it so I could be finally free from you and from your grandfather.”
Stoll laughed. “You should never trust what people say, Francis. Always get it in writing. You should know the law. It’s your job. “And,” she rubbed the nuzzle of her gun against his temple, “as soon as I get the IRS off my back, the casino will be mine so you won’t be dealing with an old fool like my grandfather or even with Uncle Jacob. You’ll be dealing with me.”
“I’d rather die!” Maguire spat.
“Well, you might have your wish very shortly. Open it.”
“I can’t.”
Maguire closed his eyes and waited for the bullet to enter the chamber, the bullet which would end his life.
Locklear did the only thing he could do, something that would blow his cover and maybe get himself and Maguire killed. He moved his gun through the slight opening.
Maguire spotted him.
“I can’t do it! I can’t do it!” he screamed.
Locklear knew the increased loudness of Maguire’s voice was designed to mask the sound of him readying his gun for fire. He pulled the trigger and waited for the sound that told him the bullet was in the chamber.
“Shut up!” Stoll said.
Maguire begged for mercy. Locklear knew the gambler was making enough noise for him to take the woman and her assassin down. He took aim and in one shot brought the goon to his knees. It was a shot designed to disable him. A shot through the right shoulder. An old favourite. He took another aim and shot the man in the left knee. Perfect. The goon would be no trouble now but he would live and would hopefully give evidence against Stoll in exchange for a lighter sentence. Stoll spun around and raised her gun to fire but she did not need to. A click at the back of Locklear’s head told him he was not alone. He looked behind him to find goon number two with a gun pointed at him.
“Throw the gun down.”
Locklear threw his weapon down and stared through the window at the defeated face of Maguire. Stoll moved to the window and smiled her catlike smile at him.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
Locklear obeyed the goon. He had no choice. His only hope would be for the back-up he called for to arrive. Back-up that should have been here by now.
“Turn around.”
He turned and, with no other option, walked in front of the goon around the side of the station.
“In!” the goon said as he opened the station door.
They walked to the incident room.
“Sit!” the man said as he banged a chair down beside Maguire.
“I’m sorry, sarge,” Maguire said.
Locklear ignored him as the goon taped his legs and arms to the chair.
He knew that Stoll intended to shoot him after he opened the safe and wondered if this, the third time he would be shot in his life, would be the bullet that would kill him. He wasn’t afraid to die. He just wished he had succeeded in putting Beth Stoll behind bars before it happened. That way he would die knowing that the Fehrs could go home and live in peace.
When he was tied up and could pose no risk to Stoll, she approached him and pointed the gun into his face.
“You’re kind of cute, you know. You have lovely hair and you have the saddest eyes. You remind me of a teddy I had as a girl.”
“You’re crazy!” Locklear spat.
“It was a compliment, Locklear. Don’t you know how to take a compliment when you receive one?”
Locklear turned away from her and rested his eyes on Maguire.
“Don’t look to him. He’s can’t help you. He’ll be dead in a few minutes.”
Maguire began to sob.
“Shut up, Maguire!” Locklear snapped.
Locklear had to think quickly. He had to find a way to knock the woman off course. He had to buy himself some time, enough hopefully for back-up to arrive.
“Didn’t your mother teach you anything?” he said. “Oh wait – that’s right. She died on you and left you and your brother to the mercy of your uncle and grandfather.”
“Shut up!” she screamed.
Locklear knew he was on the right course. The cool, controlled woman’s anger level had gone from zero to ten in a matter of seconds at the mention of her family.
“Locklear, what are you doing?” Maguire asked.
“I saw your brother. He’s a good man. But he’s disappointed in you. He said you are lost.”
“I said shut up!”
“Shut up!” Maguire echoed.
Stoll moved closer and raised her gun to Locklear’s head.
“I wonder if your uncle had your parents killed? Did you ever find out what happened to them? Did you ever really know how they died? I’d be willing to wager that your childless uncle needed an heir. The problem was your parents were raising you both as Old Order Mennonites. I guess Jacob knew that if he allowed that to continue, you’d be no use to him – he had a different life in mind for you both. With your parents out of the way, your brother was right there for the taking. He only took you as back-up.”
“Shut up!” Stoll screamed.
Locklear listened to her voice and the high-pitched scream told him Stoll would soon lose control of her anger. He knew he had better take it down a notch or two.
“Did you miss your mother?”
“It was a car accident,” she replied. Locklear could see the slight downturn of her mouth, the glistening of her eyes.
“Well, sure, a death cert has to say something but you always wondered, didn’t you? You spent time awake at night wondering. Especially when your brother left you to return to the farm. He left you there while your uncle turned you into a monster.”
“Stop it! Stop it!” Stoll screamed.
“For fuck sake, Locklear, stop it!” said Maguire. “She has a gun pointed in your face.”
“Don’t sweat it, Maguire. She’s going to kill us whether she gets the box or not. Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Stoll replied. She straightened her spine and moved closer to Locklear. “After I get the box.”
“Now, see, I’m curious about the box, Beth. Can I call you Beth?”
“Open the fucking safe!” the goon said.
Stoll began to smile. “You’re brave, Locklear, I’ll give you that. But bravery won’t save you. It’ll only slow down the time it takes you kill you.”
“That’s what he wants. He’s probably waiting for back-up,” the goon said.
“Oh, well,” Stoll said, moving even closer to Locklear’s face. “You’ll be waiting a long time because Francis here disabled the panic button after he put sleeping pills into the desk cop’s coffee. Nobody is coming to save you.”
Locklear’s head snapped around to stare at Maguire.
“I’m sorry, sarge. I didn’t want anyone else getting killed. This way she gets what she wants and leaves.”
“You stupid – fucking – moron!”
“Now, now, Locklear. There’s no need for profanity. Francis was only doing what I told him to do. He didn’t think anyone would get hurt.”
“I didn’t, sarge. Honest. I just thought she’d take the box and go.”
“Your partner is lying dead outside, Maguire. You got him killed and now you’re going to get us both killed.”
Locklear decided on a new tactic. He called it his Laurel and Hardy routine. He inched forward and lunged his chair at Maguire.
“You stupid goddamn fucking –”
Locklear fell head first into Maguire’s lap and bit the cop on the leg. Maguire screamed and tried to push the sergeant off him. Locklear unleashed his teeth from the cop’s meaty leg and tried to headbutt him.
“Stop him!” Stoll screamed.
The goon rushed forward, punching Locklear in the jaw and sending his chair flying across the room.
“Lift him up,” Stoll ordered.
The goon moved behind the chair and shoved Locklear into an upright position under the window.
“I’m going to enjoy this more than I thought I would,” Stoll said.
She spread her legs and straddled Locklear. He tensed and moved his face away.
“Give me the code.”
“No,” Locklear replied.
She turned and pointed her gun at Maguire.
“Give it to me or I’ll shoot him.”
“Shoot him,” Locklear replied.
“No!” Maguire pleaded. “Give her the code, sarge. Please.”
Stoll pulled the trigger and sent a bullet into Maguire’s knee. His chair fell over and he lay on his back as blood seeped through his trousers.
Maguire screamed. “Sarge, for God’s sake give it to her!”
Stoll turned to face Locklear again. He met her gaze and held it fixed there. He had looked into the face of evil before but never at this close range.
“Code.”
“No.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“Do it. He’s finished anyway. If he lives until tomorrow, he’ll lose his job and his reputation in the town. His life is over. Do it.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“No, I’m not, Stoll. I’m really not.”
Stoll leaned into his face and licked Locklear. She moved her lips to his mouth and kissed him before biting painfully down on his lower lip.
“You know, I think you and I might have made a good couple. I didn’t know you had such a dark side.”
Locklear smiled. “Maybe we would.”
“Code.”
Locklear laughed. “Beth, now you know I’m not giving you that code.”
Stoll turned around and pulled the trigger. A second bullet hit Maguire. This one silenced him. Locklear tried to see where the bullet had struck but Stoll blocked his view.
“Code.”
“I’m still not giving it to you.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“You’re going to kill me anyway.”
Stoll smiled and kissed Locklear one more time. She bit down harder on his lip. He struggled as blood oozed down his mouth.
Stoll moved back to survey her captive and smiled, revealing Locklear’s blood smeared on her white teeth. Locklear stared as the woman’s expression changed from perverse pleasure to surprise. The expression lasted only a moment, a fleeting second, before one shot rang out. A bullet to the shoulder. Point blank. Stoll fell backwards onto the floor. A second bullet fired. This time to the woman’s thigh. The shooter intended to keep Stoll alive but impotent. The goon raised his gun to fire back at the shooter outside the window. Locklear managed to throw himself at the man, knocking him to the ground.
The sash lifted and the shooter climbed inside. Mendoza. She raised her gun and tried to shoot as the pair tussled on the floor. A shot rang out, deafening Locklear. The goon’s grip loosened. He was dead.
“You OK, sarge?”
“Mendoza, you could have killed me.”
“You’re welcome, sarge,” she replied as she untied him.
Locklear stumbled over to Maguire who had not moved since Stoll had shot him for a second time. He checked the cop’s vitals. Maguire was alive. He checked the first goon. He was alive.
“What took you so long, Mendoza?”
“Well, I waited outside the window for a while because I figured you were enjoying yourself ... so ...”
Locklear laughed.
He stood over Stoll with Mendoza at his side. The woman was alive but dazed.
“I guess we better call an ambulance.”
Locklear turned to face the trooper.
“You saved my life.”
“It was worth saving.”
He placed his arms around her and embraced her in way he had not held another human being in a very long time.
“Come on,” he said then. “Let’s wrap this case up and go home.”
Chapter 31
Mendoza and Locklear waited patiently for Carter before they opened the box that countless people had lost their lives for. When the young trooper arrived, all three sat quietly at the table in the incident room, looking at the silver container in the middle of the table. Stoll would survive the bullet wounds Mendoza had inflicted on her as would one of her goons. Maguire would also survive but he wouldn’t be coming back to his job and it remained up to Kowalski to determine what charges would be brought against the man once he’d recovered.
“How we are going to do this?” Mendoza asked.
Locklear lifted the box and turned it every way. There didn’t seem to be any other clasps.
“Should we break it?” Carter asked.
Locklear exhaled. “I’d rather not, least not unless I have to.”
He put the box back on the table.
“What about taking it for some sort of scan – like at the airport?” Mendoza suggested.
“I don’t want anyone else knowing about the box. Not until I know what’s in it,” Locklear replied.
“We have to open it. You have no choice. Just break it” Carter said.
Locklear retrieved a hammer from the janitor’s cupboard in the station and returned to the incident room. He lifted the hammer over the box.
“OK, here goes ...”
“Wait!” Mendoza shouted. “I saw this thing on TV. A movie. The box had treasure in it and it had a false bottom.”
“This is not a movie, Mendoza” Locklear replied.
“I know but it’s worth a try.”
Locklear put the hammer down and lifted the box again. He opened the top section where the letter from Eli’s mother had been stored. There was nothing there.
“Turn the soil out,” Carter suggested.
“I already did that. There’s nothing there!” Locklear snapped.
“Well, look again,” Mendoza said.
Locklear turned the box upside down and emptied the box of its sentimental contents. He put the box back on the table and ran his fingers into each corner, looking for a false bottom.
“There’s nothing here,” he sighed.
Carter lifted the box awkwardly, wincing as he used his left arm in its sling.
“It’s really heavy and the weight from the silver can’t account for it all.”
“OK, college genius,” said Locklear. “Tell us what you think.”
Carter rummaged around the inside of the box with his fingers.
“I just did that!” Locklear snapped.
Carter began to press inside the thick hinged lid of the box.
There was a loud click.
Locklear’s heart quickened.
Carter ran his hands down to the other end of the lid and pressed hard until he heard another click.
He prised the interior panel of the lid down and revealed a small openin
g into a third chamber inside it.
He looked at his boss. “Do you want to do the honours, sarge?”
Locklear moved into Carter’s place as Mendoza drew a breath and held it.
Locklear pushed his fingers through the small opening and tried to grip something cold inside. He withdrew his fingers.
“Mendoza – would you try?”
“Why me?”
“Because your tiny fingers will be able to grab it.”
“Grab what?”
“Something ice-cold and smooth.”
“OK, sarge, but I hope it’s nothing creepy.”
Mendoza swapped places with her boss and pushed two fingers through the opening.
“I have it. It’s really heavy,” she said as her tongue twisted around her mouth.
She pulled and pulled but the item was too big to retrieve from the small space it rested in.
“Just break it,” Carter said again.
“No. If someone got it in there then we must be able to get it out. We have to think about this,” Locklear replied. “Put your fingers in again, Mendoza, and try figure out how long it is.”
