Jake nodded.
“Amazing, isn’t it? Those were such horrible circumstances for Cynthia when Stacey met her, but now she’s a grown woman and about to start a new life.”
They were discussing Dave Owens’ youngest daughter. She had been born Katherine Owens, but had changed her name to Cynthia Gannon shortly after her father’s despicable activities brought disgrace to the family.
Kathy Owens had been only 14 on the day Pierce had arrested her father for murder, but now she was 22, a college graduate, and a new member of a Pennsylvania police force. Pierce and Val, along with Jake and Stacey, would be going to Cynthia’s academy graduation the following day.
Cynthia’s older sister, Sammi, hadn’t fared as well, and had died a meth addict three years earlier, her mother, Janet Owens, was now living under the name of Grace Gannon, and was a successful multi-level-marketer. Grace had never remarried, but she lived with a good man who had two daughters of his own.
Even if his escape from jail was successful, Dave Owens would never see his daughters again. One had died tragically, while the other had risen above the shame he brought to their family. Pierce and his friends had helped the Owens and Murphy families to move on. If Dave Owens knew that Pierce had made it impossible for him to ever see his loved ones again, he would hate the detective even more than he already did.
CHAPTER 15
Hours later, in New Hampshire, it was just after midnight. At the front of the jail housing Dave Owens, a guard arrived for his shift with a middle-aged man and the man’s two sons in tow. The boys were in their late teens.
There were only two other guards on duty, and they both looked up with questions in their eyes.
“What’s going on, Phil?” asked one of the guards. He was an older man in his fifties named Sam, who was just months away from retirement. Sam’s experienced eyes had already roamed over the three civilians and determined that they were unarmed. It had been easy to do, as all three of them were dressed in shorts and T-shirts.
The guard named Phil gestured at the father and sons.
“These guys broke down about a hundred yards south of here on the highway. I told them they could wait with us and keep warm until the tow truck came.”
The older guard smiled.
“Yeah, it was a nice spring day, but it’s getting damn cold out there tonight, especially since it’s early summer.”
The father of the boys pointed to himself.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t wearing shorts.”
The older guard passed around paper cups and poured the men coffee, before refilling his own ceramic mug. The trio thanked him and sat on a bench to wait for the tow truck, they had no idea that they were about to become involved in an infamous jail break.
***
Back in the cell area, Dave Owens watched as Aaron climbed back up into the hole in the ceiling.
The drunk who had been in the cell earlier had been bailed out, minus his jacket, which Owens hoped to light on fire.
While Frank pulled on the light fixture in his cell, Aaron pushed down from the other side. The bunk beds in the cell were bolted into the walls and Frank held on to their frame with one hand while pulling with the other.
Aaron, up in the crawl space, actually had more ambient light than did Frank and Owens. It had been lights out at ten p.m. and the weak illumination drifting in from the hall was their only light.
Frank’s fixture proved to be stubborn. It took nearly five minutes until a gap appeared. After that, the light fixture dangled from the ceiling like the other one, and Frank scurried up into the tight space, to crawl on his belly.
Owens had warned them that he was weakened by his illness, and so they had expected him to be of little help. Fortunately, Owens’ fixture gave Frank and Aaron far less resistance than the others had.
Not being a complete fool, Owens kept possession of the flammable jacket and had it tied around his waist. He had been afraid of passing it to one of the other men, for fear that they would leave him behind.
Frank made a beckoning gesture to Owens.
“Jump off the top bunk and grab onto the edge of the hole. We’ll pull you up.”
Owens swallowed nervously as he looked at the opening in the ceiling. It was only six feet away, but it looked like a mile, and he feared falling to the floor.
“C’mon dude, jump.”
Owens nodded, crouched down on the top bunk, and sprang towards the hole. He surprised himself by making a perfect leap, but soon realized that he lacked the strength to pull himself up into the ceiling. Frank and Aaron were about twenty years younger than he was and hadn’t spent the last eight years rotting in a cell. Add to that the fact that he had cancer, and Owens was rapidly burning through his energy supply.
Frank’s big hands gripped him under the arms. With Aaron’s help, Owens slid up and into the ceiling beside them.
Owens let out a quiet laugh as Frank and Aaron smiled, and then Frank pulled out a pack of matches.
“Let’s go start that fire.”
***
Up front in the jail’s office, the father and the two sons who were waiting for the tow truck to arrive were getting a free show. A pair of cops had just dropped off a robbery suspect. The young man had been caught red-handed coming out the back door of a jewelry store, but told anyone who would listen that he was innocent.
The older guard named Sam questioned the man, who had his long dark hair tied up in a ponytail.
“How could you be innocent when the cops caught you holding a duffle bag full of jewelry?”
The man, who was named Darren, smiled. It was a good smile and Sam imagined that it had won the kid his share of female hearts.
“I’m no thief; I’m a reporter. I write a blog about crime and the security measures that businesses can take to prevent it. I was only in that store for research purposes.”
“Un-huh, and what’s the name of this blog?”
“Oh, I haven’t started it yet. Like I said, this was all research.”
Sam grinned back at the would-be thief.
“We’ll give you material for a second blog post, one about crime and punishment. Phil, please process this ‘journalist’ and then take him back to the cells.”
Darren’s shoulders slumped.
“Aw man, this isn’t right. I’m a member of the fourth estate.”
“You’re more like the fourth stooge,” Sam said, as the guard named Phil walked towards the thief.
***
Dave Owens was out of jail, well, part of him was.
He was dangling from a hole that was in the rear wall of the jail, but his shoulders were too wide to pass through. Aaron had thought the hole too small, but then Owens wanted to try it out. He had doubts that a fire at the rear of the building would draw everyone out of the jail’s front office.
Owens braced his right foot atop a gas meter and used it to steady himself. Without realizing it, he had created a gap between the meter and the connector pipe which fed the gas through it. That gap widened farther when Owens pushed off the pipe to climb back inside.
“You were right, Aaron, but damn it, if it were just a little wider we would all be free already.”
Frank moved towards the hole with the jacket. After dangling it outside by one sleeve, he lit a match.
“Let’s see how good a torch this thing makes.”
Frank lit the match and a brilliant flash illuminated the night.
***
In the front office, the man who had been waiting for the tow truck received a call from the driver. He smiled at his sons.
“The tow truck is here, guys.”
After thanking the guards for their help and hospitality, the father went outside with his sons following behind.
As they were walking out the door, the thief from the jewelry store was having his prints taken.
***
Frank shook his left hand, which had been singed when he set the jacket on fire, and his finge
rtips were stinging. Down below, the flames from the jacket had failed to set the damp bushes on fire by itself. However, there were scads of debris blown up against the building, such as candy wrappers and old newspapers. They had been set aflame by the jacket and were acting like kindling for the lower section of the bushes, which were beginning to burn.
As Owens and the other men were discussing whether or not the fire would be enough to draw the guards’ interest, they heard the faint cry of “Fire!” come from the front of the building.
***
The jewelry thief, Darren, was looking at his hands with a sour expression.
“Did you have to use ink? Don’t you have one of those digital scanners?”
The young guard named Phil laughed.
“Look around. Does this place look state of the art to you? We’re lucky they give us the ink.”
Phil was about to cuff the man in order to walk him to a cell, when the man he’d helped earlier rushed back inside with his two sons.
“Hey guys! You’ve got a fire going on behind the building.”
Sam told Phil and his other man to grab a fire extinguisher and check it out. He then walked over and took the thief by the arm.
“I’ll lock him up and be right there, and be careful guys.”
As everyone else ran from the building, Sam led the thief through the door that led to the back where the cells were. He ignored the protocol about handcuffing the prisoners. He didn’t want to waste any time.
The first door led to a short hallway, where a steel door opened onto the cell room. There was a pane of wire-reinforced glass in that door, but it was so scratched that you could barely see through it. As Sam turned on the lights inside the cell room, Darren spoke in a worried tone.
“Are you sure it’s safe locking me up back here while a fire is going on?”
“Don’t worry, buddy, if I see any smoke I’ll bring you back up front.”
They entered the cell room and Sam guided Darren to the nearest cell. He was so intent in locking the man up and going out to help with the fire, that it took him a moment to realize that something was very wrong.
“I think you’ve had an escape,” Darren said, as he gazed around at the three hanging fixtures jutting from the holes in the ceiling.
Sam cursed as he took in the scene.
When the sound of Owens, Aaron, and Frank crawling along above the ceiling reached his ears, Sam pulled out a radio to alert the other guards, but the other men were using the same frequency to call for the fire department. Sam took out a set of cuffs and secured Darren’s right wrist to the bar of a cell.
Afterwards, he tried the radio again, even as he opened up Aaron’s cell to get a look at the hole in the ceiling.
When Phil answered the call, Sam informed him about the breakout.
“Gas!” Darren said. “Hey, I smell gas.”
Sam lifted his nose to sniff the air, and that was when a chunk of plaster came loose and struck him on the top of his head. He collapsed to the floor of the cell and let out a moan.
***
Owens dropped from the hole in the ceiling in the office and landed on the booking desk, where he sent Sam’s coffee mug crashing to the floor. Frank and Aaron had already left the crawlspace and were headed out the door.
Owens’ heart was beating faster than it had in years. He thought of Jack Murphy and wished that somehow Jack could be at his side. The two of them free again together would have been heaven. As he opened the front door of the jail and breathed in the cool clean air of freedom, he heard a shouted command come from the rear of the building, along the right side.
“Down on the ground or I will shoot you!”
Owens recognized the voice as coming from the guard named Phil. Aaron and Frank were out in the open. They had been headed for the highway. Owens was still near the front of the building and out of view, but he felt his freedom slipping away.
Aaron and Frank lowered themselves to their knees and placed their hands behind their heads. Seeing this made Owens feel like crying.
CHAPTER 16
When Sam had collapsed to the floor with a head injury, his keys and radio fell from his hand. The thief from the jewelry store, Darren, bent down and grabbed the keys, then freed himself from the handcuffs.
After getting free, Darren rushed over to Sam, who had remained conscious, but looked dazed and in pain. Darren helped Sam to his feet and then supported the older man’s weight.
“We have to get out of here. I’m smelling gas and that guy and his kids said there was a fire out back.”
Sam looked at Darren with eyes full of confusion, but he followed his lead and walked towards the front. Darren guided Sam through the hallway and back through the second door. But before they could make it outside, a massive explosion occurred, and suddenly, they were airborne.
***
Owens was looking for somewhere to hide when the natural gas explosion occurred at the rear of the building. The glass in the front windows blew outward and showered him along with Aaron and Frank.
All three of them received minor cuts, while Frank had a shard of glass sticking out from the rear of his arm. If the embedded sliver of glass hurt, Frank didn’t seem to notice. He, Owens, and Aaron were too fascinated by the falling form of the guard named Phil.
When the blast occurred, Phil had been sent flying through the air. Had he not landed on his head and cracked open his skull, he may have been aware enough to extinguish his pants, which were on fire.
Owens recovered before Aaron and Frank. He rushed past them to pry the gun from Phil’s hand. The guard had clutched it tighter when the explosion went off, and his sudden death from a severe head trauma had locked his fingers on the weapon in a literal death grip.
Owens stepped on Phil’s wrist for leverage, even as flames ate at the flesh of the deceased guard’s legs. It took Owens two attempts, but he freed the gun. With the weapon in his hand, Owens no longer feared that Frank and Aaron would leave him to fend for himself.
When he looked up, he saw that Frank and Aaron were looking back along the road. There was a tow truck coming towards them, and when the man pulled into the parking lot, Owens knew that his luck had finally changed for the better.
***
Inside the office, Darren was beating out the flames on Sam’s back. Sam, who had already been dazed before the blast, simply lay atop the desk regaining his senses, as the man he was about to lock up saved him from burning to death.
Darren dropped the jacket he had been using to beat out the flames and forced Sam to sit up. After reaching down to grab a bottle of water, he opened it and poured it over Sam’s head. That roused the older man and the thief spoke to him.
“I know you’re hurting, but we can’t stay here. The back of the building is on fire and the smoke is getting thicker.”
Sam wiped the water from his face as his eyes seemed to gain focus.
“Let’s go.”
Sam made it to his feet, took a few steps, but then passed out and collapsed before reaching the door. Darren let out a heavy sigh, said, “Oh man,” and grabbed Sam’s wrist, to begin pulling the much larger man to safety. Darren opened the door by pushing it with his butt, and the cool night air felt blissful. That is, until he smelled the scent of burning flesh upon it.
***
Owens forced the tow truck driver into the trunk of the car the man had just hooked up.
It was the vehicle that had belonged to the unfortunate father and the two sons. The man and his boys had followed the guards to the rear of the jail, and now their burnt and battered corpses were scattered among the debris of the demolished jail.
Owens, Aaron, and Frank squeezed into the cab of the tow truck. The vehicle had more gears than any of them had ever seen, but Frank knew how to drive a stick and he soon had the vehicle moving. As they sped down the highway, they let out a cheer, and Owens pounded the dashboard with his left fist.
He might be dying of a terrible disease, but at
that moment, he felt like he was in heaven. He was free, free! He would soon see his daughters, and he would get revenge on Ricardo Pierce. Owens gripped the gun in his hand, and it gave him a sense of pure power.
***
The tow truck had been leaving the jail’s driveway when Darren had pulled Sam outside to safety. When he spotted Phil’s burning corpse, and watched flames eat away at the last of the guard’s clothes, he decided to drag Sam a little farther.
Once they were settled near a small tree, Darren collapsed with his back against the tree and with Sam laying on his side. He had positioned Sam that way, so as not to put weight on the slight burns the guard had received on his back.
Sam’s head was resting on Darren’s lap. It looked odd, and Darren thought about moving the man again, but he lacked the energy.
In the moments before they escaped the building, the heat inside had increased dramatically, as had the smoke. He and Sam were both drenched in sweat, as well as blood. The blood flowed from numerous small wounds they had received from flying debris during the blast.
Darren didn’t realize he was crying until he saw Sam brush away a tear that had fallen on his face. The tears had stirred the guard to wakefulness.
Sam looked over at the jail and moaned at the sight of Phil’s body. When he saw no figures moving about, he knew that no one else had survived. The entire rear of the building had collapsed, while the patch of woods behind it was on fire.
“Hey buddy,” Sam said, as he looked up at the thief.
“Yeah?”
“Your name is Darren Andrews, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Darren Andrews, my name is Sam Briggs, and you just saved my life. Thank you.”
Darren’s brow scrunched up in confusion.
“Dude, I couldn’t just leave you in there. I’m a thief, yeah, but I’m not a dirtbag.”
The sound of a fire engine eclipsed the roar of the nearby blaze, and Dave Owens, a man once known as a monster, stalked the night once more.
CHAPTER 17
“We’re headed the wrong way,” Owens said.
Angels (A Detective Pierce Novel Book 3) Page 7
