Fulfilling Promises (Red Starr, Book Five) (16 page)

Trigger flipped his
turn signal on as he merged into the right lane of Highway 72. The exit for Amberton was a half-mile up ahead and he’d already made the decision to stop at the garage on the way back. Today had been somewhat productive, but he wanted more time to go through Joey’s office in case he or Devyn had missed something of importance.

Detective Chaisson believed all three murders were connected based on partial fingerprints left at two of the scenes. The problem? The prints didn’t match anyone in the FBI IAFIS database, ruling out previous criminals, teachers, or anyone who worked in a profession whose prints would be kept on file. Also, the profile didn’t identify any potential suspects in the NCIC database.

Diesel was with Katie and the kids, mostly because his presence kept the boys occupied. It also helped Trigger, because leaving Diesel in the Jeep with this heat wasn’t any kind of option and Devyn had been busy opening up the bar. He’d stopped to see his sister this morning to ask her some questions about Luke Stoddard anyway. The two had dated a couple of times back in the day and she’d been in somewhat of a shock to find out what had happened. Amberton was a small community and the murders were bound to affect everyone to some degree.

Hell, the entire town was now on edge. The only good thing to come of this was that it exonerated Devyn. She’d been in her apartment the entire evening, for which Trigger could attest to and he’d certainly let Detective Chaisson know that fact immediately.

The question remained why would someone want these three men dead?

Trigger lifted the lever once again to signal he was exiting the highway and gracefully drove the Jeep across the dotted white line. He decreased his speed until he was finally stopped at the stop sign. The sun beat down on him and reminded him of the heat level. Without the soft top up and over the roll bars, the wind had kept the temperature down to a comfortable level. The sun was beating down just the same and he was going to burn to a crisp if he wasn’t careful. Since not a vehicle could be seen in either direction, he gradually pressed the accelerator and turned the wheel in the direction of the garage.

Gunny had called around a half hour ago, revealing nothing of any significance on the background checks Trigger had asked for. Not even on Hugh Locket, who ended up being an employee of a land development site scouting for potential sellers, turned out to be a decent lead. Things were going nowhere fast and he was running out of time.

The number used by Trigger’s impersonator had revealed absolutely nothing, leading them to another dead end. Detective Chaisson mentioned it had been from one of the last pay phones in Corinth, not even remotely close to a security camera, which might have caught the perp on video. Bottom line…they were still on square one.

Crash!

The ear-splitting screech was the last thing Trigger registered after having been hit from behind. He quickly tried to control the Jeep as the impact sent him lurching forward. He looked in the review mirror to find a speeding truck with blacked-out windows careening toward him once again. Was that…it certainly was. The vehicle behind him was Joey’s old Ford half-ton F250.

“Son of a bitch!”

Trigger braced himself for the next collision, as the first thought flashing in his mind was that Diesel was safe with his sister. It wasn’t a second later that the shrill sound of his tires skidding on the road resounded through the air. Whoever was behind the wheel wanted Trigger out of the picture…or dead in a ditch. He doubted this tango cared either way.

“I’ve had enough of this shit,” Trigger muttered underneath his breath, as he made sure no one was coming at them from the other direction. The garage was less than a quarter a mile away, but he wasn’t so sure he’d make it there. Unfortunately, one more hit from behind and he might actually end up rolling this sucker. He sped up. “One, two, three…”

Trigger counted the time down until he was able to take a sharp right onto the gravel lot in front of the garage. Making a high-speed fishtail in the gravel wasn’t the best idea in this kind of vehicle, but the heavier truck was bound to overshoot his lighter, more maneuverable Jeep. That small advantage would allow Trigger to withdraw his weapon from its holster.

The Jeep’s tires spun out until the vehicle had done a full three-sixty, ending up facing the same direction he’d been traveling. He finally had his weapon drawn and was standing with the hood of the Jeep in front of him to where he could rest his arms on the hot metal of the windshield frame for better aim.

Joey’s truck had come to a standstill in the middle of the road around forty-five yards away, the red brake lights lit up and signifying the perp inside was currently contemplating what to do.

“Do it,” Trigger murmured, aiming at the back tinted window where the tango’s head should be. “Come on. Make a move.”

The shrieking squeal of the tires against the hot asphalt designated this tango’s intent, so Trigger lined up his sight with the back tire and gradually squeezed the trigger repeatedly. The booming echo of the train of bullets leaving the chamber of his Kimber custom carry .45 ACP left his ears buzzing. It didn’t stop him from advancing forward after dismounting his vehicle and breaking into an all-out run as he witnessed the driver try to control the direction of the truck after the tire had all but exploded off the rim. Multiple impacts of the .45 caliber 230 hydra-shock rounds made short work of the steel-belted all-terrain tire.

Trigger didn’t expect what happened next, but he managed to adjust his course in the nick of time. He lunged to the left when the asshole reversed the truck and came barreling backward. It wasn’t hard to figure out this individual hadn’t thought this through completely and didn’t have another vehicle at his disposal. The shot rang out just as Trigger succeeded in using the large southern pine tree as cover.

The sound of the bullet thudding into the bark of the pine told him this tango had relatively decent aim and wasn’t fucking around. Trigger pulled his arms in close and held his weapon up at the ready, not wanting to give this perp any satisfaction of hitting his or her target. It didn’t get by Trigger that shooting from the truck meant the tango had his or her window open.

Trigger silently counted to three as the engine idled. He then quickly came around the other side of the pine, using the branches to obscure him as he rapidly fired his weapon at the front tire. His intention was to disable the vehicle and then apprehend the suspect, but he’d shoot to kill if it came to that. He wanted this asshole alive. He hadn’t expected the driver’s side door to be hanging open…with no one inside.

Oddly enough, the only sound Trigger was picking up as he evened out his breathing was the low hum of the engine. The light crosswind wasn’t enough to move the pines and he surveyed the area around him closely for any movement. Nothing. Not even the sound of a twig snapping in half. The tango who had left Joey’s truck in the middle of the road wasn’t on this side of the traffic lane.

Trigger didn’t like having the disadvantage of being out in the open, but he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to close with the idiot who had just tried to kill him. He slowly advanced, wishing like hell he had Diesel by his side, knowing all too well it was for the best. Had the Jeep rolled, Diesel wouldn’t have fared too well. Trigger wasn’t one to allow his emotions to get in the way of his job, but a slow churning anger started to rumble inside of him at all the damage this assailant had done over the course of two weeks.

A nine-millimeter casing was lying in the middle of the asphalt underneath the open door of the truck. Trigger bent low enough to ensure no one was on the other side of the vehicle. He gradually walked around the automobile until he was able to observe the entire landscape where the garage appeared untouched.

It was the muffled drone of an impending car that finally caught Trigger’s attention. Sheriff Harpole pulled behind Joey’s truck, hopefully having radioed in the incident, and then unfolded his rather stocky frame from his cruiser. He rested a hand on top of the vehicle, but Trigger was shaking his head and placing a finger to his mouth.

No doubt the suspect had heard the approaching car, but he or she had to be around here somewhere. Trigger motioned for the sheriff to stay where he was and to keep an eye out for anyone or anything that moved, ensuring the sheriff understood the perp was armed. Harpole withdrew his weapon and scrutinized the area. He wasn’t exactly who Trigger would have preferred to have his back, but he was better than no one at all.

Trigger hurried across the hot asphalt, the sun beating down and only making it more difficult to see his surroundings until the shadow of the garage gave him relief. The bit of coolness didn’t even register as he glanced down at the shaded ground. It was then he noticed the additional scuffmarks in the gravel lot compared to what had been there yesterday. He slowly followed the prints until he came to the back of the garage, not hesitating while turning the corner with his weapon up and searching for a target. Nothing.

The shoe impressions eventually left the gravel stones and trailed into the southern pines. The perp was long gone, but there was one thing he or she hadn’t taken into consideration—the garage had a security system better than any other business in Amberton. The entire event was currently on a high-definition digital recording.

‡

D
evyn drove her
restored red 1998 Bronco II SUV onto the gravel lot behind one of the state police cruisers whose red and blue lights were still spinning. She was getting sick and tired of seeing those light bars lately, but she was willing to deal with them if it meant something other than someone being hurt or murdered. In this case, she was glad for the added safeguard. Trigger’s call to let her know what had taken place had left her somewhat shaken and given her a rather rude wakeup call that a truly evil presence had moved into Amberton.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry,” the uniformed officer said as he held up a hand to stop Devyn from getting out her car. He was younger than she was, probably a junior officer, and she kept in mind he was just doing his job. He also had sweat dripping down the side of his face, making her realize he’d been standing in this heat for a while now. “This is a crime scene and you can’t—”

“It’s all right, Todd.” Detective Chaisson was closing a notepad as he walked out the front entrance of the garage. His blue eyes narrowed in his usual manner, falling back into the role of investigator as he strolled closer. “Let her through.”

“Detective,” Devyn greeted him warily before catching sight of the crushed back end of Trigger’s Jeep. The flattened spare tire was hanging from the twisted and broken alloy rim, which was smashed against the mounting bracket. She’d been worried upon receiving his phone call, but it was nothing compared to the nausea that hit her now. The rear bumper and swinging rear door appeared as if a Mack truck had struck it, but a semi hadn’t done this damage. It had been her own brother’s vehicle. “I’m—”

“Dixon’s inside,” Detective Chaisson offered with a glance over his shoulder. He regarded Devyn quietly for a moment, causing her to stiffen in defense. “I’m not sure he was able to give you the news yet, but we found the same set of partial fingerprints at each of the crime scenes. We’re one step closer to finding out who really murdered your brother and why.”

Devyn relaxed somewhat at the news, grateful she didn’t have to worry so much about being mistakenly arrested due to the suspect’s attempts to implicate her. She did understand that Chaisson was just doing his job, but she didn’t have to like the way he went about it. The belief that someone could put her away for a crime she didn’t commit—against her own family, no less—had been more stressful than she cared to admit. Relief mixed with fear of what was to come emptied her like a vampire who was draining her life’s supply of blood.

“I appreciate that, Detective,” Devyn replied with all the sincerity she could muster, although she wasn’t quite sure what else to say in this instance. He
had
considered her a suspect at first, although he’d never treated her with outright disrespect. She was itching to get to Trigger, needing to see for herself that he wasn’t hurt, so she quickly made her way inside the brand new security door. The somewhat cooler air of the garage was a welcome relief, but not the sight that greeted her. “Sheriff Harpole, I thought MSP were handing this.”

“Devyn, it’s good to see you. The Staties do have the case, but I just stumbled into this today.”

No, it wasn’t good to see him at all, but Devyn didn’t argue the point. The sheriff wasn’t fond of Isaac or his heritage, and therefore he wasn’t even on her top ten list of people she would give a shit about. She had respect for Detective Chaisson with reverence to his hard-earned position, but the sheriff was a political appointee and next to useless in her opinion.

“Sheriff, I appreciated your help out there today.” Trigger shook the man’s hand and effectively dismissed him, also asking for the other officer in the room for some privacy. It wasn’t until everyone else was outside that he pulled her to him. She wasn’t sure who needed comfort more, but it really didn’t matter. “I’ll tell you, Dev. It’s good to be able to do this. I thought that bastard was going to get lucky there for a minute.”