Purge (Death Crusaders Motorcycle Club) (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

4555 Lone Pine Road

(Consequences)

Blade did not want to loan me
his truck. I don’t blame him either because I wouldn’t tell him what I was up
to either.

“I need to run an errand.” I
tell him first thing in the morning.

“Okay, I have church in an
hour and then I’ll come get you and we can go together.”

“I need to go now.”

“What? Are you telling me you
have an errand that won’t wait an hour?”

“Are you telling me that your
church
is only going to last one hour?”

“Okay 90 minutes. Shirley you
can wait an hour and a half right?”

“Wrong. Just give me your
truck and I’ll be back after lunch.”

“What if I need it?”

“You have how many brothers
here and you can’t bum a ride? Or ride your motorcycle? You’re a biker no? Ride
your damn bike already.” I demand.

“Why do you need to go on
this
errand so bad?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, but I’m also
the President of the Death Crusaders. I don’t ask I tell. No one tells me what
to do and no old lady argues with me; especially not mine.”

“Oh enough already.” I snap.
“Is your ego that fragile that you can’t allow me to win one argument and get
my way?”

That shuts him up. If he
argues with that he can’t win and he knows it so he tosses me his keys. I smile
impishly and walk off swinging my hips seductively.

“Hey, you can’t walk like
that and just leave me here like this.”

“You got a right hand don’t
you?” I challenge.

He gives me the finger
playfully and storms off to church. I continue my prancing across the gravel
driveway much to the delight of the half dozen bikers who are arriving for the
meeting. Blade drives a 2006 Ford Explorer. I like it. It’s big, red and
badass. I type in 4555 Lone Pine Road on his GPS and take off. I get about ten
miles down the road when I realize I have no game plan. I guess I’m just going
to show up and wing it. According to his Garmin it will take me exactly 87
minutes to get there. It also occurs to me that I should be taking Piper but I
don’t think he’s even out of the hospital yet. As I wind my way into danger my
mind wanders back to Officer Regan. I have to believe they were going to kill
her anyway and her death is not on my hands. I also don’t believe that. At
least not yet I don’t. When I’m about ten miles out I really begin to get
stressed. What happens in a few minutes is going to determine whether or not I
find the only witness to Alex’s murder. I have to find this girl!

Before long my being stressed
turns into my being frantic. This was a stupid thing to do. It’s also my only
play so I better just do it. I stop a quarter mile from the Detective’s house
and take out Piper’s gun. I think it holds something like fifteen rounds, maybe
more and I only used one so I should have at least fourteen. I stuff it in the
back of my pants and immediately regret it. How do they do this on TV all the time?
It’s freaking uncomfortable. I take it back out and stick it in my purse.
Fortunately his house seems to be nestled in a grove of trees so it makes my
approach pretty easy. As I get nearer I begin to ask myself some important
questions like how many people live here. What if he’s got a wife and kids
here? What if his cop buddies are all hanging out here? No, probably not at
this time of morning. It’s nine thirty. He’s spent twenty-seven years working
nights. Chances are he’s kept to that routine and is fast asleep. I understand
he retired this year so it’s doubtful he’s changed his sleeping patterns yet.
Using the cover of the trees I’m able to get within about thirty feet of his
backdoor. He’s got a doggie door. It looks like an old one. I might even be
able to reach my arm in and unlock his door. Wouldn’t that be nice? What if
he’s got a pit bull in there? Man. I really should have planned this out. I get
about ten more steps when I get a really bad feeling. I start to turn around
but it’s too late.

“Stop right there Ms.
Clarkson.” Says a man’s voice. “Put your hands up.”

My blood freezes and I
wonder, is there any way out of this? Is there any excuse that’s going to
explain me sneaking around his property with a gun in my purse?

“How’d you know my name?” I
ask, raising my hands in the air...

“Let’s just say I’ve been
looking forward to a visit from you. I’d have come to meet you myself but you’re
always surrounded by those biker scum. But now that we have you alone I think it’s
high time we got to know each other don’t you think?”

“Thrilled.”

I start to turn around to
look at his face but he stops me.

“Don’t even think about it.
Just keep your head straight and march yourself to my back door. Oh, and I’ll
take your purse too.” He says as he grabs the strap to my purse and slips it
off my shoulder. A little heavy for a purse this size.” He comments.

I keep my mouth shut. I can
hear him rustling around in my purse for a moment before he stops. “Holy crap!
The lady’s carrying a piece. Nice one too.”

I turn around to look and
this time he doesn’t try to stop me. He racks back the slide and sniffs in the
opening. “Been fired recently too. Did you shoot someone Ms. Clarkson?”

I don’t give him the
satisfaction of an answer so he points me back towards his back door. When we
get to the patio the door opens and out walks another man. He’s clean cut,
physically fit and wears a stern expression on his face. On his right hip is
some kind of handgun and the way this guy carries himself I am pretty sure he’s
a cop as well. Judging by his age I’d say he’s still on the job unlike the
detective behind me poking me with his gun.

“Look what the cat dragged in
Jacob.”

“What do you know, it’s
another rat.” Jacob replies. “We been getting a lot of them lately haven’t we?”

The man who is Jacob holds
the door open for us. As I walk in I wonder how the hell I’m going to get out
of
this
scrape. I’m outnumbered two to one and they’re armed and I’m
not. What can I possibly say to these guys that will not only convince them to
give up their star witness, but to also let me live? In what world will it not
be bad for their careers to shed light on the fact that they probably coerced
the witness into picking out the wrong person? I suppose I should start
talking.

“So you’re the ones that have
been following ever since I got back into town?” I ask as they lead me into the
living room.

“That’s correct.” The
Detective replies.

“Why?” I ask.

He’s clearly the one in
charge here and the young one is just taking orders. Maybe the young guy is the
weak link.

“You been poking your nose
where it don’t belong. No amount of research, no amount of answers is ever
going to get your friend back. You do know that right?”

“The wrong guy’s in jail and
I’m not going to stop until the real killer is behind bars.”

“The guy’s behind bars are
killers Ms. Clarkson. What’d you think they are Boy Scouts?”

“Of course not but they
didn’t kill my best friend and I’m not stopping until her killer is behind
bars.”

“Well that’s where you’re
wrong.” The Detective says. “This gets dropped today. No more running around
playing at my job. You’re not even a cop for crying out loud.”

“I can’t do that Detective.”

“Do you realize the havoc
you’re going to cause if you force the DA into re-opening the case? Already
guilty people could, would end up walking free. Good cops could lose their
pensions over this.”

“That’s what you’re worried
about? Your pension and not men who are imprisoned for something they didn’t
do?”

“And you talk like we’ve got
Mother Theresa and Gandhi behind bars.” The Detective replies. “Well now that
your cards are all on the table what do you expect us to do?”

“Let me walk out of here with
the name and address of the witness. I’ll give you three days to wrap up your
affairs and get out of town. That’s my offer.”

They actually laugh at me.
“Would you care to hear my counter offer?” The Detective asks.

I nod.

“We give you ten minutes to
get your affairs in order before you meet your maker.”

“Or…”

“What? There’s no or. Here’s
how I’m going to call it in. Unknown woman breaks into house waving gun around
and threatening to kill us. We tried to talk her down but she just opened fire
fatally wounding Sheriff’s Deputy Jacob Anderson.”

“What the fuck are yo-”

As quick as lightning the
Detective turns and fires one shot with my gun into Deputy Anderson’s face. I
jump about three feet in shock as the slain Deputy slumps back into the couch
leaving a large patch of gore behind his head and the wall behind where he was
sitting. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. And I had the gall to actually
threaten them and tell them to get out of town before I ratted on them. What an
idiot I am. My heart falls as I come to the realization that I’m not getting
out of here alive.

“Will you at least tell me
who killed my best friend?” I beg.

“You want me to tell you who
killed Alex Morgan?”

“Why not?” I say. “What the
hell do you have to lose? You’re going to kill me anyway so why not give me the
peace I’m looking for by telling me who killed my friend.”

“Well…I guess it won’t hurt.
It’s not like you can do anything anyway.”

“Was there really a witness?”

“Yeah…some bitch…Anna
Watson…she walked out of the theater and right into the shootout. She was like
three feet away from the shooter. She could see the color of his eyes that
night.”

“And she’s not in witness
protection?”

“No she’s in Cave Junction. Why
are you even asking these questions? You act like you think you’re going to get
out of here alive or something.”

“I just want peace, that’s
all.”

“Fine. I guess you might as
well know who killed her then.”

I wait on baited breath for
him to finally solve the mystery that has consumed me from the moment I saw
Alex’s headstone. I’ll finally have some relief. It’s just too bad that I can’t
put the bastard behind bars.

“So…who did it? Who took my
best friend from me?”

“Well I don’t know his real
name but they call him Blade.”

And my world comes crashing
down around my ears! How the fuck…what…what…I just can’t believe it.

“No way! That’s a fucking
lie. He did not kill my best friend. He wouldn’t do that to me or to her. Come
on, who really killed Alex?”

“I’m telling you he’s the one
who shot your best friend. It wasn’t planned. Blade and several of his guys got
into it with some dudes from the Sleazebags MC and calls went out over the air
and cops descended on the place. We got there just as the Crusaders opened up
on the Sleazebags and bullets were flying. Most of it happened in front of the
Egyptian Theater. Apparently this girl walks out as this dude; Blade opens fire
on your friend. That girl was so close she got sprayed in the face.”

“You know what, just do it.
I’m ready. Just shoot me and get it over with.”

“What…oh…you and this Blade.
Are you… you’re his old lady aren’t you?” Then when I nod. “Oh man that’s
fucked up. That is really fucked up man.”

“No shit, now just do it. I
don’t have anything left to live for anyway.”

He takes Deputy Anderson’s
weapon and carefully aims it at my legs.

“What are you doing? I
thought you were gonna kill me.”

“Oh I am but I gotta make
this realistic. I’m just gonna give you a flesh wound with his gun and then
I’ll do the fatal shot with my own weapon.”

I nod. I don’t have anything
more to say. At least I’ll be out of my misery soon. The Detective takes the
Deputy’s service revolver and brings it up to bear on me. It’s a weird thing
looking straight down the barrel of a gun knowing that in a second it’s going
to blow your head off. Then he lowers it and points at my thigh. I decide I
don’t want to watch anyway so I just close my eyes and take a deep breath.