Erica Spindler - Dead Run

Walters glanced at the door, obviously interested but uneasy.

“You know how to spot a dirty cop, Walters?”

He shook his head. “They break regs. At first it’s little stuff. The stuff everybody does even though they’re not supposed to. Then it gets bigger. They tamper with evidence. They look the other way for profit. Pretty soon, they’re in so deep there’s more bad to them than good. Pretty soon, even murder’s not too much to expect.”

“I know what you’re up to, Wells, and it’s not going to work.”

Rick ignored him. “In the academy, Walters, did they teach you the proper procedure for handling a murder scene?”

“Sure. First officer secures the scene, then calls for backup.”

“Why?”

“To keep the scene from being contaminated or tampered with. When evidence is lost or destroyed, the chance of solving the crime becomes unlikely.”

“And someone gets away with murder.” Rick fixed his gaze on the kid’s. “And if the victim is a fellow officer, what happens then?”

“Everybody’s involved, from the chief on down. No stone unturned.”

“Lieutenant Lopez left Detective Chapman lying in a pool of blood. He didn’t call for backup. He left the scene unsecured. Why do you suppose that was?”

The rookie flushed. “So you say.”

“He did, Walters. And his decision had nothing to do with law and order.”

“Why should I believe you? Lieutenant Detective Lopez is a highly decorated officer. He answers only to the chief himself.”

Val had picked Walters well. A rookie. Naive. Anxious not to rock the boat, anxious to impress his superior officer.

He tried again anyway. “Wake up, Walters! Lopez is dirty. He killed Carla Chapman. Before it’s all over, he may kill you, too.”

“Shut up!” the kid shouted. “Shut the hell-”

The wall phone rang. They both turned toward it. Looking shaken, the rookie picked it up. “Officer Walters.” He paused, listening. “Yes, Lieutenant Lopez. He’s right here, no problems.” He listened again, then glanced at Rick. “Bring the suspect to you? At Paradise Christian?”

Now, why did Val want to get him away from police headquarters?

He didn’t want any witnesses.

“Fuck him,” Rick called. “I’m not going without a lawyer.”

“Lieutenant Lopez, Wells is refusing to go. He’s talking lawyering up.” He paused, then nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”

“Think regs, kid. What would the rule book say about this one? Releasing a murder suspect, a suspected cop killer, before he had been fully questioned? Refuse him his right to legal counsel? That sound right to you?”

The rookie frowned at him, obviously rattled. He cleared his throat. “Lieutenant Lopez,” he said hesitantly, “I don’t think-”

He paused and Rick knew it was to listen to a tirade from his superior officer. “Yes, sir.”

Walters held the phone out. “He wants to talk to you.”

Rick crossed to the room. The rookie brought the phone to his ear. “I have nothing to say to you, you backstabbing bastar-”

“Hello, Rick,” his friend interrupted cheerfully. “Liz is with me. We’re at Paradise Christian. I suggest you allow Walters to accompany you-”

“You son-of-a-bitch! If you so much as touch her, I’ll-”

“I’ve given Walters his instructions,” he continued. “And unless you want to lose her the way you lost Jill, I suggest you cooperate.”

“Let me speak with her, you prick,” he said, all but spitting the words at the man. “I’m not going anywhere until-”

Val laughed. “Of course you will. You’ll do anything I tell you. And, Rick,” he finished, “the clock’s ticking.”

Wednesday, November 21

10:50 p.m.

The rookie pulled the cruiser to a stop in front of the darkened church. Through the stained-glass windows Rick could see the faintest flicker of light. Candles, he realized.

The young officer came around and opened Rick’s door. “Get out, Wells.”

Rick alighted the vehicle. “It’s a trap, Walters. A setup. Why else have you brought me here?”

“Shut up, Wells.” He nudged Rick forward. “It’s been a long day.”

“Just be careful, okay? Be ready. He’s going to have to take you out.” Rick glanced over his shoulder. The kid looked scared. Flat out terrified.

Better scared than dead, Rick thought as they entered the church.

Val called to them from the sanctuary. “Walters, in here.”

The rookie gave Rick a shove in that direction. Rick could feel the kid’s nervous tension. Could sense his hand hovering near his gun.

Don’t blow it, kid. One chance, that’s all you’ll have.

Val smiled as they approached. “Thanks for bringing him over, Walters. I owe you one.”

“No problem.” The rookie moved his gaze past Val, sweeping it over the altar area. “What’s going on, Lieutenant?”

“This,” Val said. He lifted his revolver, aimed and fired. The bullet struck the kid in the chest and a look of surprise crossed his face. He took a step backward, hand going to his chest. Blood seeped through his fingers.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Rick shouted, jumping forward. “Why’d you have to do-”

Val fired again. The rookie went down. “Don’t be stupid, Rick,” Val murmured, training the gun on him. “You know why.”

Of course he did. No witnesses. No loose ends.

“You’re not going to get away with this. I swear to God, if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to bring you down.”

“Swearing to God?” Val sounded shocked. “In a church, no less.” He made a clucking sound with his tongue. “I guess I will see you in hell.”

“Where’s Liz? What have you done with her?”

Val laughed. “Desperation suits you, Rick. I like it quite well.”

“If you’ve hurt her, I swear I’ll-”

“She’s in one piece, for now. Behold-”

Liz stepped out from the shadows behind the pulpit. She supported another woman, one who appeared too weak to stand.

“Liz!” He started forward.

“Hold it, loverboy.”

This came from Heather, who stepped up behind Liz. She brought a gun to Liz’s head.

“Not dead, I see,” he said coldly.

“Observant.”

“So who’d they find on Big Pine Key? The other teenager in Bernhardt’s sleazy home video?”

“Poor Stephanie. And she had real talent, too. She and Tara both. Real wildcats in the sack. They were Bernhardt’s favorites.” She paused as if recalling fond memories, then continued. “It’s Tara’s fault Stephanie’s dead. Tara asked her friend to plead with me to let her go. Because of the baby. Like I was supposed to give a damn about that. And I couldn’t allow Stephanie to live with that knowledge, now, could I?”

She shifted her gaze to Val. “Get the chair.” He hurried to do the woman’s bidding and she returned her attention to Rick. “Carla did us a huge favor, finding those videos. I didn’t have a clue what Larry was up to, though I should have suspected. Luckily, my disciple in the Sunset Key Realty office smelled a rat and followed Carla. You needn’t worry about them, they’ve all been collected. I might even watch them once before I destroy them, for old times’ sake.”

Val brought a chair out of the sacristy and set it near Liz and directly under the choir loft. He crossed to Liz, wrenched the other woman from Liz’s grasp and half carried, half dragged her to the chair. She folded into it like a rag doll.

“Rachel!” Liz cried, reaching for her.

Liz’s sister? Stunned, Rick looked at Liz; she met his eyes, the expression in hers desperate.

“Secure Ms. Ames’s wrists.”

“No please or thank-you?” Rick shifted his attention to Heather. “Just because you’re an amoral, psychopathic bitch doesn’t mean you have the right to be rude.”