Yuletide Defender (3 page)

Rounding the corner at Walters and Branson, she looked around for a hiding place. The stores still in business on the street were deserted, having closed hours ago and pulled iron gates across their fronts. Others sat like ghosts in the darkness with their doors and windows covered with boards.

Pondering which side would afford the best view, she crossed the street and walked several feet to a narrow alley that ran between two of the deserted stores. She flattened herself in the shadows against the brick exterior of one of the buildings and hoped that she was hidden from sight.

Her heart beat in her ears with a deafening thud. She pressed her hands to her chest and breathed deeply. No matter what happened, she had to keep control of her senses and observe every detail accurately.

The thumping in her chest slowed and she relaxed. Careful not to make a sound, she scrunched against the wall and waited.

 

From his position at the second-floor window of an abandoned building, he watched her slip into the alley across the street. “Well, Rachel Long. What are you doing here? If you're looking for a story, maybe I can oblige.”

He had to hand it to her—she had spunk. Not many women would put themselves in danger by coming into this neighborhood at night, not even for the promise of a sensational story.

He picked up the sniper rifle lying beside him and stroked the weapon. Never had he seen a better barrel contour than this masterpiece exhibited.

He raised the rifle to his shoulder and peered through the
scope. Rachel's image came into his sights. It would be so simple. The paper might offer a reward for information leading to the arrest of the gang member who killed a crusading reporter.

His index finger hovered over the trigger. So simple.

The roar of an engine shattered his focus. He watched as a black sedan with tinted windows pulled to a stop, just over ten feet from Rachel.

He frowned as he studied the vehicle. He knew the owner, Terrence Cooper, well. Tonight was shaping up to be a fun-filled outing. Terrence might not think so if he knew what was about to happen.

Within moments, another car drove up and parked behind the sedan. A man jumped out and hurried toward Terrence's car. Even in the shadows he recognized Tom Carr.

A movement from the alley caught his attention and he swung the rifle to his shoulder. Evidently Rachel wanted a better view. He grasped the rifle tighter. The stock felt cool against his cheek and sent a thrill coursing through his body.

He peered through the scope at Rachel's magnified figure and then focused on the man on the sidewalk. Terrence, who had an envelope in his hand, emerged from the car and appeared in the scope's crosshairs. Three people who had no idea of the danger around them. He wavered back and forth. Who should be first? Tom reached for the envelope and stuffed it in his coat pocket.

There really was no choice. It was time for retribution. He held his breath and pulled the trigger.

T
he sharp crack of a rifle ricocheted off the brick buildings. Rachel slammed backward into the recesses of the alley. With the second shot, she fell to her knees and covered her head with her arms. Panting for breath, she waited for another report. When a third didn't follow, she pushed to her feet and inched toward the sidewalk.

The black sedan, its motor idling and its windshield shattered, hadn't moved. Beside it, a man with blood pouring from his head lay on the sidewalk. Another man sprawled next to him.

Afraid to expose her position, Rachel debated on whether or not to go to their aid. A third shot hit bricks on the front of the building. She screamed and jumped backward.

Yanking her cell phone from her pocket, she called 911.

The operator's voice crackled in her ear. “What is your emergency?”

“There's been a shooting at Walters and Branson. Two men are lying on the sidewalk and the shooter is firing at me.”

“Help is on the way, ma'am. What's your position?”

“In an alley. Please tell them to hurry.” She flipped the phone closed before the woman could ask more questions.

Footsteps pounded on the asphalt street. Rachel peeked out. A man sprinted from the shadows of a building across
from her. Zigzagging as he ran, the shadowy figure headed toward the two lying next to the car.

Rachel's chest pounded with fear. Could he be the shooter? As if in answer to her question another shot rang out. The runner dived to the pavement behind the car as the bullet hit the back window.

Her chest heaved in panic as she looked around for an escape route. She took a step backward and her foot struck a tin can. As its clatter echoed in the alley, the man next to the bodies cocked his head to one side and pushed into a crouching position. His gaze locked on the alley.

Cold fear crept through Rachel's body. She had to get out of there. A streetlight burned at the far end of the alley. Willing her unresponsive body to move, Rachel turned and ran toward it as fast as she could. Behind her, footfalls echoed on the concrete.

“Police! Stop!”

The words registered in her mind, but the voice from behind only served as a command for her feet to move faster. How could the police have gotten here so quickly? It had to be the shooter chasing her. If she could get to the next street, maybe she could find a place to hide from him.

“I said stop!”

The light came closer and she pushed harder. Just a few more feet and she would—

Something blocked her path. Before she realized what was happening, she plowed into a rusted garbage can that sat in the middle of the alley.

She clawed at empty air as she fell forward. With a scream, she landed facedown on the hard concrete.

A hand clamped around her left arm and pulled. Pushing to her feet, Rachel straightened, whirled to face her pursuer and stared into the barrel of a gun. She shook free of the restraining hand. “Get away from me.”

A loud gasp sounded and the hand released her arm. “Rachel?” The surprised croak bounced off the brick walls.

Shaking, she inched backward. Her attacker took a step forward into the light filtering into the alley. Rachel's knees almost buckled and she staggered even farther away.

She tried to speak but her vocal cords felt useless. She shook her head in denial. “Matt? What are you doing here?”

 

Matt blinked in disbelief and lowered the gun he held. He didn't know if he was more surprised at the two bodies lying on the pavement behind him or Rachel's presence at the scene of a murder. He rammed his revolver back in the holster and advanced on her with fists clenched.

Every expletive he'd ever heard came to mind. With a shake of his head he tried to banish old habits from the days before he turned his life over to God. Besides, if David had been right about Rachel's commitment to her job, nothing he said would faze her.

“What am I doing here? I'm a policeman doing my job. Do you realize you could've been killed?”

Her chin quivered. “I—I'm doing my job, too. I w-was following a lead for a story.”

Matt leaned forward. He could smell the perfume he'd come to associate with her presence. The familiar reminder calmed his racing heart. “And did you just happen to pick this spot out of all the other streets in town?”

“No, of course not.”

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Tell me now, or so help me, I'll call your editor and tell him you've just interfered with a police stakeout. I don't think he'll like that too much.”

At the end of the alley, police cruisers screeched to a stop and their blue lights bounced off the brick walls. Voices rang out as the officers converged on the shooting scene and shouted commands to search the buildings for the shooter.

Her shoulders slumped and she released a long breath. “All right. If you must know, there was a call to the office yesterday. The man said he wanted to meet with a reporter. We met last night and he told me there was a policeman taking payoffs from a Ranger. He said their meetings take place on this corner. I just wanted to see what I could find out.”

His heart beat faster with each word she spoke. He raked his hand through his hair and stared at her. “You should've called me right away and told me about this. I warned you about the danger. Whoever shot these guys was shooting at you, too.”

Even in the dim light he could see the fear that flashed in her eyes before she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “He was firing at you, too.”

“His aim would've been better if he'd intended to hit me.”

Rachel nodded. “He probably could have hit me, too, if he'd really wanted to kill me. Why do you think he did that?”

Matt shrugged. “Probably just wanted to scare us.”

Sirens wailed in the distance. Matt took her by the shoulders. “Did you call the police?” She nodded.

“Oh, great. Now we have other officers pulled off patrol to join the ones already here.”

Her lips curled into a sneer. “Well, excuse me for trying to report a crime. I thought that was the right thing to do.”

If she thought the mocking tone of her voice would anger him, she was wrong. He'd observed her fiery temperament and her competitive spirit at the other crime scenes. In fact, they were what had attracted him to her the first time he saw her. As much as he hated to admit it, she fascinated him.

“It was. But as I tried to tell you earlier today, I don't want you to end up dead right.”

Several more police cars screeched to a halt at the entrance to the alley. Rachel tucked a strand of blond hair behind her
ear, took a deep breath and hugged her purse against her body. “I suppose I'd better go talk to them.”

Matt stepped aside and made a sweeping bow. “After you. I think it's time you met my partner.”

 

Rachel hesitated a moment before she stepped from the alley. Several policemen were bending over the bodies. She could hear them talking but her mind was on Matt and how shocked she'd been when she stared at the gun pointed at her.

An unmarked police car stopped at the curb, and the man Rachel had seen with Matt at the shooting scene the day before climbed out. Matt led her over to where the man stood and stopped beside him. “Philip, this is Rachel Long, a reporter with the
Beacon.
Rachel, this is my partner, Detective Philip Nolan.”

The man smiled and held out his hand. “I've seen Miss Long at some of the crime scenes before but we've never been introduced. It's good to finally meet you. I read all your stories. But how did the
Beacon
get a reporter down here so quickly?”

Matt glanced at Rachel. “Actually, she was here when it happened.”

The detective pursed his lips and looked over at the bodies on the sidewalk. “Since Miss Long was here, why don't you get her statement and I'll talk to the first responders?”

Matt nodded, took her arm and led her down the sidewalk away from the bodies. “Now tell me about this call you got yesterday.”

“I've told you all I know. I was just following the lead I was given.”

Matt leaned against the brick front of a boarded up café. “Did you get a look at the informant?”

“No, he wouldn't let me turn around. He told me to refer to him as my confidential source.” Rachel glanced up and down
the street. “Where were you standing? I didn't see you until you ran to the car.”

Matt pointed to a deserted building that had once housed a grocery store. “That doorway over there. I saw someone cross the street and go down the alley, but in the dark I didn't realize it was you. I thought it was one of the neighborhood residents taking a shortcut through the alley to the apartments on the next street. If I had recognized you, I would have gotten you out of here before anything happened.”

She shook her head. “You couldn't have stopped me. I was determined to follow that lead. I just never expected to see two men killed.” She glanced back at the crime scene. “Do you know who they are?”

“I can't release their names until their families have been notified.”

Matt's reserved tone warned her that he didn't want to discuss the situation with her. Maybe her source had been right. If a policeman and a gang member had met for a scheduled payoff, someone had put a halt to their plans.

A cold wind blew down the street and Rachel pulled her coat tighter. “How long do you think I'll have to stay here?”

“You'll be able to leave soon.”

Philip Nolan, who'd been talking with two of the crime scene investigators, turned and walked toward them. He stopped next to Matt and stared at Rachel.

“Miss Long?”

Her heart pounded as she nodded.

The man smiled and nodded in Matt's direction. “I know Matt has your statement but is there anything else you didn't tell him that might be important? We've got two dead bodies here, and we need something to help us find a killer.”

Briefly, Rachel recounted the events of the previous night and continued until she ended with the arrival of the police at the shooting scene. “I never saw the shooter but I think he
must have been in an upstairs window of one of the buildings across the street.”

Matt's eyebrows arched. “That so? You didn't tell me that before.”

She shrugged and pointed to a building across the street. “I just now thought of it. The sound seemed to come from that direction.”

Reaching into his pocket, Philip handed her a card. “If you think of anything else, give us a call.” He shoved the notepad in his pocket and turned to walk back toward the crime scene. Suddenly he stopped and spun around. “One more thing about this anonymous source. Be careful, Miss Long. I'd hate to see you get caught up in something dangerous.”

Rachel smiled. “Matt's warned me about that. I thank you for your concern, also.”

Philip studied her before he and Matt returned to the crime scene.

Rachel turned her back on the two bodies lying on the sidewalk and tried to direct her attention across the street to the building where she believed the killer had hidden. As she squinted into the distance, two uniformed policemen walked by.

The one nearer her looked at the other officer and shook his head. “I can't believe it. Tom Carr taking payoffs. He was almost ready to retire. Why would he get mixed up with a gang?”

The other man shook his head. “I don't know. Did you see the wad of money they pulled out of that envelope in his pocket? The press is going to have a field day with this. I can see the headlines now. Corrupt detective killed taking payoff from a gang member.”

The men glanced at her as if seeing her for the first time, but she gave no indication she noticed them. Her mind raced with the information that confirmed what her source had said.
Her stakeout had paid off. She had the headline for tomorrow's newspaper.

Rachel straightened as Matt walked back to where she stood. “You can go now.” He stared up the street. “Where's your car?”

Rachel pointed in the direction she'd parked. “About two blocks down.”

Matt took her by the arm. “Mine's around the corner. Since I've got to go to the police station, I'll drive you to your car. Then I'm going to follow you home. Just want to make sure you get there safely.”

The thought of walking back to her car, especially with a killer on the loose, had been niggling at the back of her mind ever since the shooting. Matt's suggestion put her mind at ease.

“Thanks. I'd appreciate that.”

With a final wave at the officers, Matt steered her around the corner and down the block to where his police car was parked.

Several minutes later he stopped beside her vehicle. She turned to thank him but he was staring past her. “Oh, Rachel,” he murmured.

She twisted in her seat to follow his gaze, and her eyes flared. “Wh-what happened?”

He shifted the car into Park and reached for the door handle. “It looks like you just got a welcome to the neighborhood.”

Her legs felt like limp spaghetti as she climbed out and walked over to her car. The window on the driver's side had been broken, and the door stood slightly ajar. She could see the contents of the glove compartment scattered across the front seat. The case holding all her CDs was missing.

She glanced at Matt, who knelt beside one of the tires. He pushed to his feet and brushed his hands together. “All four tires are slashed and the hubcaps are gone.”

Tears flooded her eyes as she gazed across the dented hood
and broken windshield. “It looks like they used a baseball bat on it.”

He nodded. “Yeah, or something like that.” He shook his head. “I'm sorry, Rachel, but this isn't unusual for this neighborhood.”

She blinked the tears away and took a deep breath. “Well, you did warn me.”

“Yeah, but being right doesn't make me feel any better.”