Killer Amnesia: Faith In The Face 0f Crime

by Sherri Shackelford

  “Okay,” Liam agreed. “We’ll hunker down here.”

  Jordan galloped down the stairs. The distant sound of the door slamming marked his exit.

  Emma collapsed onto a chair. “He locked me in my hospital room that night. He knew Bishop was taking the next shift, and he locked the door. He knew I wouldn’t blame him.”

  “He fooled us all,” Liam said quietly. “At least we’ll live to tell the tale.”

  “It’s funny, isn’t it? He told us he was a great guy, and we all believed him. I remember liking him that first night and not liking Bishop.”

  Lost in his own thoughts, Liam nodded. He’d known the sheriff better. There’d been signs. The sheriff had preyed on their weaknesses, exploiting their insecurities for his own gain.

  The door slammed again, and footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  Emma cupped a hand near her mouth and called, “What did you forget, Jordan?”

  A sudden premonition gripped Liam. He stood, positioning his body between Emma and the top of the stairs as he reached for his service weapon.

  Sheriff Garner appeared, a twelve gauge shotgun in his outstretched hands. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you, boy,” he drawled.

  Liam’s hand hovered at his hip. He’d worn his bulletproof vest today. The addition had been an afterthought. If he pulled his gun, he might survive the buckshot.

  Making his decision, he reached for his weapon.

  Sheriff Garner was faster.

  The buckshot exploded against his chest, lifting his feet from the floor. He sailed through the air, catching a glimpse of the deer head the sheriff had mounted above the office door before his world went black.

  At least this time he was certain the bullet hadn’t gone through him.

  * * *

  Numb with shock, Emma sat in the passenger seat of Sheriff Garner’s SUV, feigning a calm she didn’t feel. Tears dampened her cheeks and she twisted her wrists, straining against the handcuffs.

  “I would have preferred you died in the fire,” the sheriff said from the driver’s seat. “This makes things a touch more complicated. Figures. Been living in this town off and on my whole life, and that was the one time those volunteer fire idiots got it right. How’d you guys finally figure me out anyway? Your amnesia was a lucky break. Did you finally remember it was me in that pickup truck?”

  “You said you gave me a speeding ticket, but Liam knew you never wrote them.”

  “They’re beneath me.” He sneered. “That boy was bound to be trouble. I never should have taken him on.”

  “What are you planning on doing?” she managed to ask.

  “Well, I’m putting the blame on your boyfriend, ain’t I? People like stories so we’ll give them a story. It’ll have to be a murder-suicide. Deputy McCourt tried to burn you alive at Artie’s house, but he failed and nearly killed himself in the process. I suspected him and took you into protective custody. He followed us to my ranch and there was a confrontation. I don’t want to spoil the ending for you, but McCourt doesn’t make it out alive. I might even get injured in the exchange. Makes it more heroic that way.”

  Bile rose in the back of her throat. “It won’t work. You already killed him.”

  “He ain’t dead,” the sheriff chortled. “He was wearing a bulletproof vest. I can always tell on the skinny guys. Bulks them up. Plus, I shot him with buckshot. He’s probably not looking too pretty, but he’s alive. And he’ll come for you. It’s in his nature. He’ll come charging in like some stupid hero, and I’ll take him out. I’ll be the proper amount of shocked and sad at how he killed you and then killed himself.”

  “The death of a deputy will bring an investigation and a lot of attention.” Fear seeped through her bones. “No one will believe Liam was involved in a murder-suicide.”

  The sheriff threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the SUV. “You don’t know him at all, do you? The US Marshals had to beg me to give him a job. He messed up real good in Dallas, and the DPD don’t want him back. Ain’t no one gonna take the time to investigate that old boy’s death.”

  She glanced away, refusing to be drawn in, but the sheriff was too invested in his narrative to quit.

  “You heard about the girl,” he said, goading her. “How he got her killed.”

  Emma remained stubbornly silent. She didn’t know what had happened in Dallas, but she knew Liam. Whatever occurred wasn’t his fault, but he was carrying the burden.

  A sudden hope struck her. The sheriff didn’t know about Jordan. He didn’t know about Jordan’s contacts with the Department of Defense. They might not make it out alive, but Jordan wouldn’t stop until he knew the truth.

  As her heart hammered against her ribs, the scenery changed. The vegetation thinned, and the terrain turned flat and uninspired. They passed cars, the sheriff tipping his hat with a wave, happy to be seen with a passenger in the SUV. It was all part of his story. The ease with which he’d planned her death nauseated her.

  “I run this town. I have for twenty years,” he said with a friendly wave to a vehicle passing in the opposite direction. “No one has any reason to doubt me.” He chuckled. “You, on the other hand, aren’t going to be missed. I kept tabs on you in that hospital. Not one visitor. Not a one. Not one call to the office looking for a missing person. You couldn’t have made it easier on me if you tried, and I thank you for that. You two are a couple of misfits, and no one cares about them.”

  He didn’t know her. He didn’t know anything about her, and that would be his downfall. The realization comforted her as the time ticked away. The ride seemed to last forever. The land grew harsh and desolate. Not a cloud marred the painfully blue sky.

  She forced air into her lungs, willing herself to breathe normally. She had to stay alert. Liam was coming for her, and the sheriff was setting a trap. She had to find a way to warn him.

  The SUV kicked up dust as they drove beneath an arch of intertwined antlers.

  The ranch house at the end of the winding drive was long and low and painted a depressing shade of beige. There were three outbuildings in various states of disrepair dotting the property. He yanked her from the cab of the truck and dragged her up the front stairs. Two sturdy rocking chairs sat side by side, and he shoved her onto one.

  “Now we wait.” He spat into the dust. “This is going to be fun.”

  They didn’t have to wait long. Soon, Liam’s Tahoe appeared in the distance, a plume of dust trailing the vehicle. He parked about twenty yards from the house and got out. Her heart lodged in her throat. His shirt was shredded and bloodstained. He held both arms in the air, a shotgun clutched in his right hand.

  When Liam was about ten yards from the house, the sheriff ordered him to stop. He moved behind her chair and she felt the cold press of his handgun against her temple.

  “Lower your weapon,” the sheriff ordered.

  Liam caught her gaze. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get you out of this.”

  “Like you did that other girl?” The sheriff cackled. “Looks like the past is about to repeat itself.”

  * * *

  Liam had been expecting the sheriff’s goading, and the barb went wide.

  He kept his gaze averted from Emma. Her distress was a distraction he couldn’t afford.

  “Let her go,” he called across the distance. “This is between you and me.”

  “Not hardly,” the sheriff hollered back. “I got a score to settle with you.”

  “What would that be?”

  “I know what you’re trying to do,” Garner replied. “You can waste all the time you want waiting for the cavalry to come and rescue you. That’s what I want, too. I need an audience if this is going to work.”

  “Then humor me. Tell me about Missy Johnson.”

  “You wouldn’t be recording me now, would you, son? No matter. I’ll search y
ou when you’re dead. And I know you’re not live streaming anything. Can’t get internet this far out.”

  “Then you might as well talk.”

  “I killed her, if that’s what you’re asking. Missy wasn’t my normal target. It was a crime of opportunity, you might say. I was in a bad mood that night and she was walking home all alone after a fight with her boyfriend. Didn’t hurt that she was Grant Bishop’s girl. He needed to be knocked down a peg or two. Knowing she’d still be alive if they hadn’t fought must have haunted him all these years. She was worth the trouble, but I learned my lesson with that one. After that, I learned to hunt people who lived on the outskirts of society, because when those folks fall off the edge, no one pays them any mind. In America, all men are created equal. In America. Those words don’t mean nothing across the border. It’s the dirty little secret we all keep, isn’t it? Now when the urge squeezes me, I pick someone God didn’t create equal. That way no one looks too hard. The Rio Grande has saved me more than once. There are places in Texas where the grass has soaked up so much blood, I’m surprised the sap of those scrawny brush trees doesn’t run red.”

  “Bishop cared. He looked for those women.” A haze of fury clouded Liam’s vision. “He was keeping files on those girls. I think he suspected you all along, but he didn’t want to believe it.”

  “He didn’t suspect nothin’. I only kept him around because he’s easy to fool. He’s got a drug problem that he spends all his time trying to hide. He’s nothing more than a statistic. He’ll be in rehab for a while after you’re gone. Then he’ll owe me. I’ve been setting you up to take the fall on this all along. But you probably already figured that out, didn’t you? I’ll make sure there’s a dent in your truck to prove you ran her off the road. Your DNA is all over the bullets the killer left behind. All the trails are going to lead right to you. I been doin’ this for years. I know how to fool people. I know how to lead the clues astray. But I’m keeping things simple with you. I’ll show the proper amount of shock and sorrow with a little remorse because I didn’t catch you before you killed this little lady. People will believe anything I tell them. I’m a fine, upstanding citizen, after all, and you’re a stranger. Wait until someone leaks the news about what happened in Dallas on top of everything else. They’ll probably dig you up again just to hang you.”

  “Why Emma?” He stalled. Jordan had hopped out of the truck about half a mile back. He was circling around for a clear shot. “Was she getting too close to the truth?”

  The sheriff ran his fingers down her cheek, and she shuddered away.

  Garner laughed at her misery. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered that she was hunting me. She was digging up all the old case files. Then Artie sank his teeth into the project. I figured it was just a matter of time before someone started to put the pieces together. Figured I better stopper the leak, if you get my drift.”

  Liam glanced over his shoulder.

  The sheriff chuckled. “We got another couple of minutes before someone shows, but I think it’s time we wrap this up.”

  “How many did you kill?”

  There was a good chance either one or both of them were going to die in the exchange. Liam wanted all the information he could pull from the man before that happened.

  “Too many to tell you in the time we have.” Garner yanked Emma to her feet. “You come on up here so I can set the scene for the officers.”

  “What makes you think I’ll go down that easy?”

  “Cuz you’re too softhearted. I read it in your file. You was crying because that girl bled out from the bullet that should have killed you. I was counting on you going off all half-cocked. You don’t want to see this little lady suffer. I can make her death quick, or I can make it ugly. Your choice. But I’m counting on you to save her any more pain.”

  A flash of metal caught the sun. Jordan was in place.

  Time to make his move. “Then let’s do this.”

  Emma tipped forward and headbutted her captor in the chest. His arms flailed and he fired, but the bullet went wide. A volley shattered the front window.

  Garner threw his hands over his head and danced an odd jig. “What the—”

  A second gunshot from Jordan splintered the door frame, forcing Garner to scurry into the house. The front door slammed behind him.

  Emma bolted down the stairs and slammed into Liam’s chest.

  He’d never seen a prettier sight. Garner had gotten sloppy in his panic, and he’d left his hostage behind. A fatal mistake.

  His shotgun at the ready, Liam steadied her with a hand to her waist. “Stay low.”

  There was a shed about twenty feet from the house, and Liam made for the protection it offered. From his hiding place, Jordan fired off a few more rounds to give them cover. Emma’s harsh breathing sounded between the volleys. The distance wasn’t far, but fear had drained her resources. Liam pressed his back against the chipped beige paint flaking off the siding and tucked Emma against him.

  Her whole body quaked, and he shifted his attention. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated and her breathing was uneven. Her chin wobbled.

  “I thought you were dead,” she said in a ragged whisper. “I thought he killed you.”

  An overwhelming wave of love surged through him. Disregarding their precarious circumstances, he caressed her chin and angled her face up. Then he lowered his mouth and pressed their lips together.

  The kiss was meant to distract her from the danger, to remind her to focus on being alive. He wanted her to know that, no matter what, he’d get her to safety—even if that meant risking his own life.

  She pressed her hands against his tattered shirt, feeling for the bulletproof vest that had saved his life. The warmth of her lips unleashed a tenuous hope he never thought he’d feel. He knew he was holding her too tightly, but for a moment, his arms refused to loosen.

  Wresting for control, he pulled away, breaking the kiss. “We’re going to survive this. Jordan is here. You’ll never have to fear Garner again.”

  She glanced at the shotgun, then threaded her fingers through his free hand. “I trust you.”

  The three words shimmered in the air between them. He wanted to explain everything, to confess what had happened in Dallas, but this wasn’t the time or place.

  If she could love him at his best, then maybe—just maybe—she could love him at his worst.

  Two more shots sounded, and Jordan jogged to meet them.

  He pulled Emma into a quick, one-armed embrace. “You did good back there, sis.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jordan patted her hand. “We have a lot to talk about. How about we take out this guy and go home?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Liam said.

  A plume of dust caught his attention. “Someone else is coming.”

  They kept out of site until the familiar vehicle came into view. “It’s Bishop.”

  Liam exited his cover long enough to wave the deputy toward them. Bishop angled his Tahoe between the house and their hiding place. He leaped from the cab, anchoring his hat to his head and staying low as he sprinted the distance.

  “Good to see you, Bishop,” Liam said brusquely.

  “Not happy to be here,” the deputy mumbled. “The sheriff is screaming over the radio. He says you’ve gone crazy and you’re shooting up the place. When the Redbird police get here, you better lay low. They’re liable to take your head off.”

  “Then we don’t have much time.”

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” Bishop’s expression was rigid. “He did it, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah. We’re going to have to dig up every inch of this property. He confessed to killing Missy and the others. I’m guessing those women are here, somewhere, and they deserve a decent burial.”

  “I knew it,” Bishop muttered darkly. “I didn’t want to believe it, but somehow, I kne
w it. He’s got the drop on just about everyone around here. Even me. It’s like secrets and lies are his currency. He’ll get you out of a jam, but then you owe him.”

  “He’s going to answer for his crimes,” Jordan said. “I’ll see to that. But we have to get him first.”

  Liam assessed the situation. “Bishop, you stay here with Emma. Jordan and I will flush him out of the house.” He motioned toward the porch. “You take the front and make some noise to flush him out the back. I’ll be waiting.”

  “Got it,” Jordan said, then took off without a backward glance.

  Liam started to follow, but Emma snatched his arm. “Be careful. I can’t go through that again. I can’t... I can’t lose you.”

  Pressing a hard kiss to her lips, he cupped the back of her head. “I’m going to finish this.”

  Liam skirted around the house, swiping the sweat from his brow. The back door faced the open range. There wasn’t much cover behind the dips in the terrain and the patchy scrub. Garner had cornered himself.

  Jordan fired off a few shots and hollered. Liam pressed his shoulder against the side of the house and watched the back door. An agonizing amount of time passed. Nothing happened.

  “He’s not coming out,” Liam shouted.

  “Then we’ll take him inside.”

  The maneuver wasn’t ideal, but the faint echo of sirens bolstered his courage. They didn’t have much time, and he didn’t want to be shot in the crossfire. Leading with his shotgun, he whipped around the corner and scanned the interior.

  What he could see of the house was meticulously neat. The furniture was set at precise, right angles. There were no rugs immediately visible on the floor or pictures on the walls. The kitchen was on the left separated by a tall countertop, which meant the hallway on the right must lead to the bedrooms.