Fly With Fire (33 page)

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Authors: Frances Randon

BOOK: Fly With Fire
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“That bitch was the one who
set the whole thing up.” Bull shouted. “I got close to her so I could bust her.
I was gonna bring in back up and bust the lot of them. You guys need to calm
down and let me explain.”

“Just put the gun down so you
have a chance to explain.” Al said reasonably.

“Burnham’s out for me Al,
‘cause I know he killed Ray so he could take over Ray’s scam. He’ll kill me to
shut me up. Who you gonna believe Al? Me or that punk. I got the evidence that
Burnham killed Ray.”

“No good, Bull. Maybe Lyons
set Ray up. But who pulled the trigger? Now you’ve killed the girl. Hasty decision,
Bull. Give it up.” Al turned to see a cruiser turn into the alley sirens
blaring. Another was right behind it. He flashed his badge and waved them back.
“The warehouse!” he yelled. “Duke Washington’s got the other suspects inside.”
He turned his attention back to the heavy breathing Bull. “Don’t turn this into
a shooting gallery, Bull. Not if you want to make it out alive.” More sirens
screamed into the other end of the alley.

Zack climbed onto a trash can
and caught a service ladder going up the side of the building moving as quietly
as possible. It was maybe ten inches wide but enough to get into a position to
see Bull. Bull was cornered and eyeing a low window. Zack thought maybe he
could get a shot, a shoulder shot to make him drop the gun but he’d be out in
the open. If Bull shot first... He climbed slowly as quietly as possible. Bull
was focused in Al’s direction. Cops had gotten out of their cars at the other
end of the alley and were running up on foot. Zack was holding the rung with
his left hand, twisted almost all the way around with his gun in his right
hand. Zack tried to signal them back. “Police!” He mouthed as one raised a gun.
He couldn’t reach for his badge. “Drop your gun and come down off the ladder!”
one called through a bullhorn.

Fuck, Zack barely had time to
think as he looked down at Bull. A shot rang out, the sound and burning in
Zack’s right shoulder simultaneous. He lost his gun as the impact of a second
bullet made him lose his footing. His side felt as if a hot poker had ripped
the length of his torso. He was sure a rib was shattered as he managed a crash
landing on a dumpster lid. Bull shot again. The bullet bounced off the
dumpster. Zack lay still on top the dumpster grateful it was the tall narrow
kind. Too high for Bull to see him. The pain took his breath away. “You all
right Burnham?” No answer. “Bull, this is it. You’re surrounded. You wanna die
today? You just shot a cop,” Al stated with more of an edge to his voice.

“Today’s just as good as a
needle tomorrow. You wanna see me get the needle, Al?” Bull panted.

“It doesn’t have to come to
that.” Al made his decision. He walked toward the dumpsters. The cops on his
end of the alley tried to wave him back. “I’m putting down my gun and coming
in, Bull. Let’s talk this out before somebody else gets killed.”

Zack sucked in his breath.
“Al, no!” he cried out in his mind. He tried to rise. He found he could barely
move his right arm. He lay in a pool of blood that ran down the slanted lid.

Al stepped between the
dumpsters. “Come on, Bull. We’ve been friends a long time. I don’t wanna see
you die. I’ll be there for you, Bull. Remember when we were partners? Always
had each other’s back. You were like a son to me. I got your back now, Bull.
Let’s work this out. You’re not a fool. Did you shoot Ray in self defense?
Could anybody prove you didn’t? We’ve just got to stay calm.” Al came face to
face with Bull.

“Ray knew I was onto him. He
tried to kill me. He was chasing Lyons into the alley but it was a set up. He
knew I was going to take him down. It was Lyons that shot him. I tried to stop
it but I couldn’t blow my cover. Lyons was going to kill us both. I got away
and Burnham found Ray. It was Lyons, Al. And that bitch!”

“Take it easy, the truth will
come out. Put the gun down and we’ll take it downtown and sort it out. Lyons is
in a cell. We’ll get the truth out of him.” Al took another step toward Bull,
his tone was gentle, soothing. Zack edged up to see, looking for an
opportunity, hoping he’d be able to make a move. He could feel the wet warm
blood saturating his clothes. Al stood unarmed. Bull held the gun but didn’t
aim. Bull looked up at the sky as if he might find an answer there. He held out
the gun. Al reached out. He almost had his hand on it “That’s good, Bull. It’ll
be all right.”

“You called her Rosalie.
That’s how I knew she set me up.” Bull thrust Al’s hand away and moved closer
aiming right at his temple. “Get down on your knees, Al.” He tried to push him
down.

“I’m not gonna do it, Bull”
Al answered in a low, even tone.

“Now! I’ll kill you. I’m
gonna kill him if you don’t let me outta here!” He shouted out to the cops in
the alley.

“Then kill me on my own two
feet.” Al’s face was an angry grimace but he spoke calmly.

“Put your weapon down and
come out with your hands up.” A loud voice ordered through a bull horn.

Bull pushed Al against the
wall. “Get in that window.”

“No.” Al stated simply. There
was no defiant tone. He was simply refusing to comply as if he were refusing a
shoe shine.

“I’ll kill you, Al. He was
gonna shoot me, Al. If he’s dead it’s because he’s been trying to set me up all
along. Burnham’s dead. That’s the story, Al. It was Burnham.” Bull was
desperate, talking fast and sweating bullets.

“It’s no good, Bull.” Al
stood still, the veins in his face and the rise of his chest the only
movement 

“I’ll kill you. Make ‘im back
off. Get in the fucking window Al!” Bull’s tone was turning to rage. He kicked
the low window out and jabbed the gun to Al’s head. “Goddammit!” He tried to
force Al down but the big man wouldn’t budge. He smacked him in the head with
the gun. He punched a kidney. Bull gritted his teeth and was about to kick him
in the back of the knees when with one quick move Al rammed his elbow back into
Bull’s gut. Bull reeled backwards his arms thrown back. Zack saw his chance and
leapt.

He landed on Bull and they
crashed against the brick wall before hitting the ground. Zack had Bull’s gun
arm but he was weak. Bull, solid muscle and with the strength that had earned
him his name hoisted Zack off but he couldn’t shake him off the arm holding the
gun. Zack’s head spun, he saw the gun turning toward him and used all the
strength he had left to turn it away; from him and from Al. With the stomp of a
giant foot, Bull’s arm was pinned to the ground. A shot fired hitting the
building scattering sharp bits of brick and dust. He tried to grab Al’s leg
yanking at his pants. Zack managed a swing that landed square in Bull’s nose.
He grabbed the gun from the loosened grip and rolled away with it before dropping
his face against the concrete, panting.  He looked toward Al who was
pushing Bull over onto his stomach with a massive foot. As he began to lose
consciousness he thought of Mo.

Eleven

 

Mo had awakened and found the
note. It seemed strange that Zack would have left her for hours and not called.
They had made plans to bike on the lakefront. It was their last day. If he had
gone for a run he would have been back. The strangeness of the whole situation
gripped her making the layers of suppressed fear and doubt rise to the surface.
Something must have come up. He was definite about their plans. Maybe there’d
been some news about the robbery suspect. Maybe news about Ling’s murder.
Surely he would have awakened her. She poured the last of the coffee and sat
with a magazine. She found she could not interest herself in ‘Law Enforcement
Weapons and Supplies’. For the fourth time she dialed his cell phone number and
got his voice mail. She knew he didn’t do text. Something she had already
berated him about.

Mo didn’t bother leaving
another message. His not answering or calling back gnawed at her. Family
emergency? He never spoke of his family. She didn’t know who any of his family
might be in Chicago. She knew nothing about his family though she’d been curious. 
She remembered how he’d changed the subject when she’d brought it up. She bit
her lip with worry. Maybe she could call Dino. She had no number for him and
the restaurant wouldn’t be open yet. Was she being ridiculous? Had he mentioned
something he had to do?

She found a book on the
bottom shelf of the end table. She started reading ‘Sherlock Holmes and the
Adventure of the Reigate Squire’. Mo started to become engrossed as she sipped
her coffee but laughter coming through the open terrace door distracted her and
she looked at her phone to check the time. Where had he gone? Why hadn’t he
called? Something uncomfortable stirred in her that she was unfamiliar with.
She started to worry. Worse, she started to feel something was horribly wrong.
No, she knew something was horribly wrong.

Her cell phone rang and she
breathed a sigh of relief and answered without looking. “Zack…”

“Ms. Whitman? Gerald Tyler.
Mayor of Chicago. Where have you been keeping yourself? Don’t tell me I already
know you’re shacked up with Burnham.”

“Good of you to get in touch,
Mayor. Now if you’ll just excuse me…” Mo drew her lips into an angry sneer.

“Don’t burn the town down,
sweetie. Heard about the robbery. Saw your picture in the paper. You’re determined
to bring my town bad publicity aren’t you? Well you can make it up to me. Party
tonight at my house. Too bad Roddy went to New York to meet his wife but some
of your other friends are coming, the few left in town. You can bring Burnham
if you insist. I should take his badge for moving into my territory. But word
is he might be off the hook soon. Back working cases where he belongs.”

The last sentence was like a
punch in the gut, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d meant it to be. “Look
here, Mayor, let me tell you what I think of the way Zack’s been treated by
you.” Mo had had enough. She was ready to start in.

“Hold on.” She heard his
voice talking loudly. Another voice shouting excitedly. She’d had enough of
this conversation and couldn’t care less if she ever saw the Mayor again. She
snorted at the phone ready to just hang up. Ultimately, he was Zack’s boss. She
rolled her eyes.

“Be ready for my car in ten
minutes. We’ll be downstairs,” The mayor ordered in a demanding tone.

“Just a minute, Tyler. You
can’t order me around. Who do you think you are? I don’t have time for this,
and you can shove your party up…”

“Zack Burnham’s been wounded
in a shoot out. They’re taking him to Oak Lawn Hospital. It doesn’t look good,
Ms. Whitman. Be downstairs.”

Mo froze in place as the
phone went dead. She stared at the blank apartment walls as her cell phone slid
off her lap and onto the floor. She tried to swallow but was only vaguely aware
that the muscles in her throat didn’t seem to work properly. From her peripheral
vision she noticed the curtains blowing with the breeze. It felt cool, cold.
She shivered. Gulping a sob, she rose to her feet and ran out the door in
Zack’s boxers and Tee-shirt.

“We don’t have all the
details, but apparently Burnham…Zack, and Al Simpson were together with a
friend of Al’s, Duke Washington. Washington’s a local police hero, wounded in
the line. About to retire.”

“It’s my understanding Al
Simpson’s a local hero too. I’m not so impressed. Did Simpson do this? He’s
crazy. Get to the point, what happened?” Mo sat in the back of the mayor’s
Limo. She glared at him as if he’d just confessed to shooting Zack himself.

“I know your upset, Ms.
Whitman. Like I said we don’t have all the details but somehow Zack and Al came
to Duke Washington’s assistance with a drug bust.  Bull Shaughnessy, a
police internal investigator, was involved, arrested. A woman was killed. And
Zack was wounded.”

Mo realized then that Zack
must have gotten a call and gone with Simpson to try to catch Bull Shaughnessy
doing something involving drugs. And now…  She tried to remain calm.
Images of Zack being shot, maybe dying, played themselves over and over again
in her mind.

The mayor’s car sped through
traffic with a police escort. Tyler tried to reassure her. Zack was still
alive, Zack was strong. He knew the risks involved with police work and was a
brave man. “You know, he was once engaged to my daughter.”

“Yes, I think he mentioned
it.” She really didn’t know much at all about Zack’s history.

“Patricia loved him. But she
didn’t want him to be a cop. He wanted to be a cop like his old man. He never
wanted to be anything else. Gotta give ‘im credit for going to college first.
Worked his way through.” Mo’s eyes were riveted toward the mayor. Tyler sensed
Mo was in the dark when it came to Zack’s past. Couldn’t blame him for not
wanting to talk about it but she deserved to know something about the man she
was evidently so involved with.

“Yeah, his old man was a
detective. A good one. Until he lost his badge for being on the take. He was
already a drinker but then he really took to it. Didn’t take long to drink
himself to death. Then his mother killed herself.  His sister took off
years ago. Wanted nothing to do with the family. Didn’t even come for the
funerals.” The car turned and sped south down Cicero Avenue. “His father was
the meanest bastard in the neighborhood. The Yards. Never cut Zack a brake.
Even my old man, who was mayor at the time, and a son of a bitch, was a nice
guy compared to Zachary’s pop. Zack lived for one glimmer of approval from the
guy. Never got it. He managed to make everyone around him feel like shit even
after he lost his job. Zack’s been trying to live up to one image and to live
down the other. I’m sure he told you all this.” He eyed her carefully.

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