Brian Freeman - Spilled Blood

The man reached out his hand. ‘How about you let me take that gun from you? You don’t want anyone to get hurt.’

Lenny’s arm shook. ‘Don’t make me kill you.’

The man took a cautious step toward Lenny. His mouth crinkled into a warm smile. ‘When you’re a teenager, things can seem pretty overwhelming. I’ve been there. Then you get old, and you realize most stuff that you thought was important when you were a kid isn’t important at all.’

‘ Stop. ’

‘Let’s talk about this, okay? You and me.’

He took another step. His hand was inches from the gun.

Lenny’s finger jerked. He didn’t even want to fire, but he fired. The explosion rang in his ears, and the recoil shuddered through his arm. He watched the old man stutter backwards, his hand over his chest, blood seeping through his knuckles, trickling down his skin and over his purple sweatshirt. The man’s eyes were wide with disbelief. His face contorted in pain. He stumbled and sank to his knees. His breathing was ragged.

Lenny ran. He went wild with panic. He leaped into the pick-up and drove, spinning the wheel so wildly that the truck nearly upended as he shot onto the highway. The passenger door flapped and finally shut itself. He twisted his torso to look over his shoulder, and he could see the old man on the ground. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. There was no going back now.

You just killed a man, Leno.

45

‘Did my son kill Kirk Watson?’ Glenn Magnus asked, his voice low. ‘Tell me the truth, Chris.’

‘He says he didn’t.’

‘I know what he says. I know what the police told me. I want to know what you think.’

Chris glanced at the porch, where Hannah sat with Olivia. Johan was hidden inside. They were out of earshot, but he saw Olivia watching him, and her eyes reached out to him for help. It was a feeling he’d missed, the way she used to turn to him when she was a child. He’d never thought he would experience it again. His daughter needed him. She’d grown up, but she still needed him.

He’d interviewed Olivia and Johan separately throughout the night. Their stories matched. He didn’t think they were lying.

‘Johan admits he went there to kill Kirk,’ Chris said, ‘but before he reached the house, he heard gunshots near the river. He went to check it out and came across Kirk’s body. He says he heard footsteps running in the opposite direction.’

‘What about the gun? It was the same gun that killed Ashlynn, wasn’t it?’

‘It looks that way.’

‘I’ve never doubted Johan in my life,’ the minister said, ‘but it’s hard to know what to think. There was blood on his clothes after Ashlynn was killed. There was blood on his clothes now.’

The two men stood eye to eye in the street. The minister looked shaken.

‘He was honest about what he wanted to do,’ Chris said. ‘He was honest about trying to get a gun from Tanya. If he already had a gun, why would he bother calling her? I think if Johan killed Kirk, he’d simply say so. He’d be proud of it.’

‘That scares me, too. If he didn’t do it, it’s only because someone beat him to it.’

Chris thought of himself outside Kirk’s house. One by one, they had all come face to face with the devil. ‘Not necessarily.’

‘You said yourself he had murder in his heart.’

‘It’s one thing to think about it, Glenn, it’s another to do it. It’s a lot harder than people believe.’

‘The police want to talk to him.’

‘I know. Get a lawyer first. In the meantime, don’t let him say anything or answer any questions. Olivia says Johan wasn’t wearing gloves. If he didn’t swing the shovel, if he didn’t touch the gun, they won’t find prints. If he wasn’t there, they won’t find anything to prove he was.’

‘On the other hand, if he’s lying, they’ll know.’

‘Probably.’

Magnus stared at the sky. Chris wondered if he was debating with God. If anyone had reason to question his faith, it was Glenn Magnus, who had already lost a wife and a daughter. Now his son was at risk, too.

‘If he didn’t do it, someone else did,’ the minister said.

‘Olivia said someone searched Kirk’s house,’ Chris said.

‘Whoever killed him was looking for something.’

‘What do you think it was?’

‘I don’t know, but my bet is that the killer didn’t find it. If you find what you’re looking for, you stop. I think whoever it was saw Kirk leave and ransacked the house. When he didn’t find what he wanted, he went after Kirk and killed him. Then Johan showed up, and he had to bolt.’

‘If it’s worth killing over, someone else may be in danger.’

‘Johan’s already in danger,’ Chris said. ‘Keep an eye out for Lenny Watson. With his brother dead, he’s out for blood. The feud’s not over.’

‘Lenny isn’t a monster like Kirk.’

‘No, but he’s desperate. You don’t know what he’ll do.’

Distantly, Chris heard music. He realized it was Hannah’s phone, ringing on the porch. He watched Hannah answer, and only seconds later, his ex-wife hurried toward them. He realized, watching the minister’s face, that they had something in common. They both loved Hannah.

‘Who was on the phone?’ Chris asked.

‘It’s a woman I’ve worked with at the Center,’ Hannah replied. ‘She’s an EMT in Barron. She responded to a 911 call, and she thought I’d want to know about it. There’s been a shooting.’

Chris found Michael Altman at the remote U-Stor facility outside Barron. The ambulance was gone, but the police presence surrounding Kirk’s storage garage remained. The county attorney looked older, as if his inexhaustible energy had been drained. He stared into space, oblivious to his surroundings. Chris tapped on the window of the county sedan, and Altman made a weary gesture at the other door. Chris climbed inside. The engine was running, and the interior of the car was warm. Altman had a bulky laptop computer, an old model, open on his dashboard. The screen saver had come on, sending rotating swirls of color across the monitor. There were several file folders bulging on the front seat and a plastic bag filled with computer thumb drives.

‘You have an excellent network of spies, Mr. Hawk,’ Altman told him.

‘Hannah does.’

‘Ah. Of course.’

‘How’s the victim?’ Chris asked.

‘He lost a lot of blood, but he was able to call for help, and he was conscious when the EMTs arrived. The medical personnel think he’ll survive.’

‘Was it Lenny Watson who shot him?’

‘It looks that way, based on the description the victim provided. He’s armed and dangerous now. That stupid boy, all he’s going to do is get himself killed.’ Altman swiveled his head and stared at Chris. ‘I need to know where Johan Magnus is.’

‘He’s at Hannah’s house. His father is with him. He’s safe.’

‘I don’t appreciate your hiding that fact from me last night.’

‘I didn’t know it when I saw you.’

Altman frowned, but he dropped it.

‘You don’t look happy,’ Chris said.

The county attorney had sunken eyes. Like Glenn Magnus, he appeared to be in the midst of an utter crisis of faith. It wasn’t anger or disappointment. It was devastation. Whatever the man had found in Kirk’s garage had shaken him to the core.

‘You would think that after the years I’ve spent in this job, I would have cultivated a cynical view of human behavior,’ Altman told him. ‘The strange thing is, I haven’t. I’m a Christian, Mr. Hawk. I believe people are basically good.’

‘Actually, I agree with you,’ Chris said.

Altman reached for a file folder on the front seat and handed it to Chris silently. Chris opened it, and he felt a weight land upon his chest, heavy and awful. With each page he turned, he felt nausea grip his stomach, he felt rage chill his heart, and he felt his soul release a silent, irrepressible scream. The images printed on the pages spoke of such depravity that he had a difficult time imagining that whoever had done this was part of the same human race. The trouble was, they were. They walked the same streets. They breathed the same air. They looked like everyone else.