L Sellers - The Arranger

Lara made a decision. She lifted her arm in one quick motion and shot out the overhead light. The room went completely dark, the teenage girl cried out, and Blondie swore. Lara dropped to her knees and crawled eight feet at a slight angle. She guessed at her location, leapt forward, and tackled Blondie. They both fell sideways to the floor. Lying on top of him, she shoved her gun into the soft of his throat, then groped blindly with her left hand, searching for his weapon.

Flashlights shone across the room. Someone shouted, “Drop your weapons and freeze!”

Footsteps bounded across the carpet and someone picked up the shooter’s weapon from the floor. A hand touched her shoulder. “Lara, you can let him go. We’ve got this.”

In the dim eerie glow of flashlights, she saw Detective Harper and two uniform officers. Her part was over. She scrambled to her feet but held on to her 9-millimeter.

“Give me the gun, Lara. It’s procedure.”

She reluctantly handed it over. Her body slumped with relief. “He killed Morton,” she said.

“I know.”

“Who is he?”

“I think his name is Paul Madsen, but that’s all I can say for now.”

Her cameraman stepped from the stairs into the room, still filming and talking on his iCom at the same time. “Lara,” he called out, “Minda says to get your ass back on the street and finish this marathon.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You’re still in the Gauntlet. The viewers are going crazy. They can’t vote for you if you don’t finish.”

At first she didn’t trust what he was saying. Then her heart exploded with joy, and a surge of adrenaline pulsed in her veins. She looked at Caden.

He gave her a gentle push. “Go. I’ll see you at the finish line.”

Lara glanced back at the captive teenagers, their faces filled with fear and confusion. She hated to just leave them. She looked at the shooter, still not knowing who he was or why he’d come here.

She started to ask for her gun.

“Go! We’ve got this.”

Nick stepped aside and filmed as Lara bolted for the stairs.

Two and a half hours later, she stumbled through the gates of the Gauntlet property and crossed the finish line. A small crowd of staffers and journalists were waiting, along with Caden and the other two contestants, Jason and Makil. Online, millions of viewers witnessed her completion.

Exhausted and thirsty, she accepted another sports drink from Nick and gave him a high five. “Thanks, Nick. You did good.”

Her legs felt like collapsing and her stomach churned with hunger, but she suffered through her last interview with Minda. Out of respect for Caden and the D.C. officers, she didn’t offer any new details about what had happened in the commissioner’s basement. Nick had filmed most of it anyway, so the viewers knew the basics. They would get her personal story after Caden got a confession. Lara also refused to speculate on how the viewers would vote, even though Minda had asked her to.

“We’ll know soon enough. I’m just proud that I made it through every phase.” There was also a thousand-dollar cash prize for placing second, but it had never been about the money for her. She wanted the thousands of jobs for her state.

Rain burst from the dark sky in big ugly splotches, so the crowd hustled into the arena and stood by the scoreboard in the lobby. Minda chatted up the viewers, while Lara went in search of a restroom. After she heard the final score, she would have to go with Caden to make a formal statement for the police. Hopefully, they would drop the charges against her and release her from the ankle monitor. If so, tomorrow she would fly home and put it all behind her.

When she came back to the lobby, the crowd clapped and cheered. Lara looked at the board. Her name was on top with 329 points! She’d earned 25 points for finishing and another 25 for taking ninety-six percent of the final viewer vote. Her throat closed and she fought back tears. She’d won the damn thing! It didn’t change the past or bring Officer Parker back to life, but she felt a little redemption…and the first step toward forgiveness.

After another glorious night with Caden, Lara got up early to pack while he went into the department for a meeting. She had mixed feelings about going home. She couldn’t wait to be back in her own cozy apartment in Eugene, but leaving Caden was harder than she’d imagined. He planned to return and drive her to the airport, but she considered taking a taxi and avoiding the emotional goodbye. That way, neither of them had to promise to stay in touch when they both knew money and distance would keep them apart.

Caden showed up before she sent for a taxi. He handed over both her weapons, hugged her tightly, and asked her to sit. “I thought you might want to know the few details I’ve uncovered.”

“I’d like that. You know I won’t share them.”

“Paul Madsen is a software guy in the federal employee management office. We think he arranged for people to be hired and fired in exchange for cash. Someone, most likely his girlfriend, wanted the commissioner’s job and he tried to arrange that. We don’t know for sure, because he’s not talking much yet.”

“Kirsten died over a job?” Lara shook her head. “Is Madsen a sociopath?”

“We’re not sure, but he might try to plead insanity.” Caden nodded. “There’s more. The kids in Morton’s basement were foster children. He had access to them through his charity work at Transitions.”

The words foster children triggered a memory. “Excuse me,” she said. “I have to contact someone.”

She grabbed her iCom and spoke her message to Jackson out loud: “It’s Lara. The missing foster kids you’re looking for? Check the basement of Thaddeus Morton’s home. The commissioner’s dead and not coming back, so you won’t need a subpoena. Let me know how it goes.” She pushed Send.

“You’re still a cop at heart.” Caden smiled softly.

“I’m a damn good paramedic too, and I’ll be glad to get back to my job.”

“Can I come down and see you when I visit my daughter in Portland?”

“You’d better.”

Lara looked around to see if she’d forgotten to pack anything. A small wrapped chocolate lay on the nightstand from the maid service the day before. She slipped it into her pocket. Later on the plane, she would put it into her mouth and let it melt. It was a start.