7th Precinct

Chapter 1 – Jumping the Gun

hated cases like these. Getting romantically involved with a suspect was never a good thing. I had actually only had it happen one time before but it did not end well. I had met this girl on a train station right about the time the “Cocktail Killer,” as we called her, had been tearing up Downtown Houston. She was a tall drink of water with blonde hair and blue eyes. She got on at Preston and off at Wheeler. I wished I had followed her but what would I have said. “Hey i saw you on the subway. What’s up?” But when I saw her entering the car ahead of me the very next day I was determined to make a move. I quickly headed towards her car, hopped on, and made sure I sat within talking range of her.
That’s when I saw it. The guitar case. There were three things we knew about the “Cocktail Killer.” First, she was clean. Never left a fingerprint. Never left a strand of hair. Never even left a skin sample. Second she always poisoned her victims drink, letting him die a slow peaceful death. Third, she serenaded him with her guitar, witnesses said, while they slowly passed into oblivion. No witness had ever seen her with a guitar or ever even seen her but they had heard the guitar melody coming from the hotel room or apartment she and the victim were in.
I told myself it was a coincidence. How many girls in Houston probably played guitar. but I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. I had to talk to her.
“What kind of guitar do you have there?” I asked nonchalantly.
“She glanced at me, summed me up, and answered, “It’s an acoustic Fender Kingman SCE. That mean anything to you?”
It did. The “Cocktail Killer'” didn’t use an electric guitar. “Of course it does. Fenders are pretty nice. How much was it? ‘Bout 500?”
”Closer to six. You play?” She never took her eyes off me. She had seen my badge, I just knew it. I should have taken it off.
“Used to a little bit. Not much though. I’m more into sports than music. I’m Jack by the way. Jack Taylor.” She had probably already guessed that by my athletic build and cut muscles.
“Nice to meet you Jack.” She didn’t give me her name. Red flag. “What sports do you play?” she asked.
“Mostly just basketball. A little football,” I replied.
We talked for a few minutes and the train came to a stop. I hoped it wasn’t her exit. It was.“Well it was nice to meet you but I must get going,” she said. 
She was getting off at Main Street Square Station. Why had she even gotten on the subway to go one station down? I couldn’t help but feel like she was getting off to avoid any further conversation with me. I had to follow her. She exited the train and headed toward the stairs at the left side of the terminal. I waited until she was a safe distance then jumped up and ran off the train. I did my best to remain undetected and thought she saw me at one point. She headed up the stairs out through the gates and immediately hailed a cab. I knew she was avoiding me. I hailed the very next cab and had the driver follow her. We drove about five minutes down towards Brookside Village where she got out, crossed the street, entered an apartment building and headed up the stairs. She knocked on a door and waited. She had to be meeting her next victim. The door opened, I heard her say “Hey,” and she went inside. I had probable cause so I did not need a warrant. I put my ear to the door. I really hoped I wasn’t wrong about this.
I heard ice drop into a glass and drinks being poured. I couldn’t wait until I heard the guitar. It would be too late then. I had to act. It was now or never. I unholstered my weapon and tried the handle on the door. Thankfully it was still unlocked. I didn’t want to have to kick the door down if I was wrong about this.
I threw open the door. “HPD!” I yelled. “Hands in the air!”

Chapter 2 – Grace

I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I saw her and another girl and a guy all sitting on the sofa, drinking soda, and watching TV. I had been wrong. I was so embarrassed.
And I never lived it down. The guys at the station ribbed me about it for ages. That’s why I think it’s such a bad idea to have any type of relationship with a suspect. Or even a relative of a suspect. It’s just a disaster waiting to happen.
But Grace Hill was different. She had come through the station a couple months back during a residential break-in case. Witnesses placed her at the scene of the crime at the time of the break-in. We interrogated her and got nothing. She claimed she was innocent and even passed the lie detector test. She had to be clean. The old “step-on-a-tack” never really works. So reluctant as I was I had to let her go. I certainly didn’t want to charge her with anything. She seemed really nice.
Anyways, a few months later she gets picked up again, this time on charges of grand theft auto, reckless driving, and involuntary manslaughter. She had been found in the drivers seat of a red ford fusion that witnesses said, and forensics confirmed, had run another driver off the road and into a tree, killing him instantly. Grace had a concussion and couldn’t remember much. But she claimed she was innocent, yet again, saying that she saw the car in the ditch and pulled over to help not seeing any emergency response units on scene. She said there was a woman in the passenger seat but the drivers seat was empty. She opened the door, got in to help the lady out, and must have been hit up side the head. Her concussion was so severe that we could not question her at the scene and had to wait for a few hours till she was stable at the hospital.
It didn’t look good for her. All the evidence pointed to her and there was no one to confirm her alibi. To make matters worse, her car was found parked in her driveway. Her ship was sunk. She had no way to prove she was innocent. I had to help her.
I stuck around when Detective Ron Altimus was done questioning her. Then showed the sentry at the door my badge and walked on in.
“Grace Hill?” I began. “Look, I don’t-“ She cut me off.
“I didn’t do it.”
“I believe you.”
“You do?” she asked. “Why?”
“Because you’re just an innocent woman with a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. That and you just aren’t the carjacking type.” We shared a laugh. She needed that. “Look, I’ll talk to the chief and see if we can’t take a further look into this and find out what really happened back there.”
“Thank you so much. I’d hug you but I wouldn’t wanna tangle you in my IV,” she said.
“It’s ok. maybe later.” I patted her hand and headed toward the elevator. I had to prove her innocent.  Which meant I had to take a look at the case files.

Chapter 3 – Partners –

I exited the hospital and was immediately soaked by the torrential downpour. While sprinting to my Charger my cell rang. It was Gary. Detective Gary McEwen and I had been partners for 8 years. He was 5 foot 8 and 220 pounds but he was as fast as a cheetah. He could beat anyone at a foot race and loved it when he got to prove by catching a fleeing suspect. And he always finished the case with a tackle and mount. He had played high school football but had declined a scholarship to Texas A&M.
He had his priorities in order. That was for sure. Work always came before play with Gary. He was serious when he needed to be but no one could make you laugh harder. He must have gotten it from his dad, a travelling stand-up comedian. But he also took after his mom, Executive Asst. Chief of Strategic Operations.
Gary was strong and smart and he knew me better than anyone. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when he asked:
“You think she’s innocent don’t you?”
“Yep,” I replied. “I know it looks bad but there’s no way it was her. She must have been set up. I’m heading down to the station now to check out the case files. I’ll compile a list of suspects based on the print analysis Doc and Ben did.”
Doctor Dan Allen had was the head of forensics. He’d been with the department 13 years and his work was always perfect. His assistant Ben Salazar had been working under him almost 4 years and together they made a great team. I knew I could count on them. I needed to in order find out what really went down in the car. Grace couldn’t remember so it was up  to us find out.
“I’ll talk to the chief and see if we can take a second look around the crime scene once this rain stops,” Gary said. “Maybe we missed something in all the mess.”
“Alright.” I hung up the phone getting an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
Chief Dallas Parker was a very… cut and dry man. He always stuck with the facts. He was no Leroy Jethro Gibbs that was for sure. The man relied on evidence, facts, and proof, not gut instinct or intuition. He was very matter of fact and always gave me a hard time when I got emotionally involved. Sometimes it was a good thing but not this time. I just knew he was going to try to stonewall us.
I got to the station, successfully avoided Parker, and went straight to the forensics lab.

Chapter 4 – Suspects 

“Doc, whatcha got?” I asked as entered the room.
“Coffee.” He handed me a steaming cup of coffee. Black. I was going to need it. It was already Eleven O’clock and I had a lot to do. “And a main suspect. The car is not registered to anyone but I would guess it belongs to a Wesley Reynolds. His fingerprints turned up numerous times on the steering wheel, shifter, and elsewhere. Also an Alice Wells’ fingerprints turned up many times. I also pulled a few of Bret Henderson’s fingerprints off the belt buckles and door handle in the back seat. The rest were either very old or just partials. But I would guess with some certainty that Reynolds was driving the car when it ran off the road.”
“Thanks Doc.” I took the elevator back up to the evidence locker, flashed my ID, and quickly found the case files. A big fact I could present to the chief, there were several beer cans found in the car but Grace Hill wasn’t intoxicated at all. That was good news. Also she had barely touched the shifter so if she had driven the car, it hadn’t been long.
I looked over the photos from the crash where the red ford fusion had struck a white Chevy pick-up truck. The driver of the ford had been passing the truck when he or she lost control, swiped the pick-up, and sent it careening into the ditch. The photos were not pretty. I honestly couldn’t believe the ford had not ended up in the ditch also.
I figured I had all I was going to get from the files so I decided to head back to the hospital to wait out the rain with Grace. Maybe she would remember something. I called Ron on the way to the elevator.
“Altimus,” he said once he picked up.
”It’s Jack. Got a job for ya.”
“Anything, boss.”
“Run background on Wesley Reynolds, Alice Wells, and Bret Henderson. I want phone records, back statements, known associates, the whole nine yards. I want to know everything there is to know about them. Got it?”
”Fries with that?” He always was a joker.
“And coffee. Black. Shaken not stirred. Get to work kid.” At 27 Ron Altimus was hardly a kid. He just acted like it.
I pushed the button for the first floor and the doors shut. When they reopened Chief of Police Dallas Parker was staring me in the face.

Chapter 5 - Instinct

“Where ya headed, Jack?” he asked.
“To the hospital, chief. Just thought I’d see if Grace remembered anything. Then I’m going to see the cars most probable owner. It wasn’t registered.”
“I know.”
“Wait. What did you know?”
“All of it,” he said.
“Then why did you ask?”
“Well I had to know for sure where you were going. Get out of here. Just remember the last suspect you hit on.”
“Very funny, chief. You know I really thought you would stonewall me on this. You think she did it right?”
“Judging by the evidence, usually I’d say yes. But as Captain of Homicide you wouldn’t be doing you’re job if you didn’t find out who did this, how, and why. Plus you’re gut has proven to be pretty pretty reliable. Except on the “Cocktail Killer” case.”
“Boss… some days you make me wanna drink a Molotov Cocktail.”
“Mazal tov.”
“Yes sir.”
I drove to the hospital. On the way I got a call from Gary.
“Jack, I got something on Reynolds,” he said.
“What is it?”
“He’s missing.”
“Find him.” I hung up as I pulled up to the hospital. I walked quickly inside, went up the elevator and to Grace’s room. “Hey, do you remember anything else?
“Not really,” she said. “Just pulling up to the car, getting out of mine and getting into the drivers seat of the ford. It’s all a blur. Like a dream.”
“I wish I could say it was. But don’t worry. We’ll find the guy who did this. We already have several other suspects. Can’t give you any details but it looks good for you. I’m actually headed to check once of them out now. Anything I can help you with before I leave?”
“I just wanna go home.”
“Well we’ll see what we can do about that.”
I called the chief, checked with the hospital, and cleared Grace to go home. Then I plugged Reynolds address into my GPS and took off. When I got there Gary was already waiting for me.
“Figured I’d let you do the honors,” he said as we walked up the driveway. I knocked on the front door. No answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. I tried the handle. It was unlocked. I drew my 9mm Glock and pushed open the door. After a room to room search of the house Gary and I did a little looking around. It was easy to see the place was trashed. Someone was here and they had been looking for something.
“Jack. Back here,” Gary shouted from one of the back rooms of the house. Some of the dry wall was ripped out. “I wonder if they found what they were looking for.”
“We’ll have Doc and Ben check it out. First I need to get a protective detail to Grace’s. There’s something more to this case. I’ve got a bad feeling about all this.”
“Never second guess Jack’s gut!” We both laughed halfheartedly. A few minutes later I got a call from Detective Altimus.
“Talk to me Ron.” I hoped he had good news.
“Grace is gone.”

Chapter 6 – Kidnapped

The shock washed through. I had no idea why anyone would want to kidnap Grace. I hung up dumbfounded. Why? That’s when Doc called.
“I have a startling little bit of information for you Jackson.” My full name was Jackson Malcolm Taylor. Everyone but Doc just called me Jack. “I found a single print that raised quite a few red flags. The print belongs to a Bret Henderson. He was a suspect in the bank heist down on Main Street the other day. Ring a bell?”
“So he robbed a bank and stole a car. Think he also kidnapped the only potential witness?”
“Possibly. I would check it out if I were you, Jackson,” he added.
I got the address off of my computer, left the house with Gary, and headed straight for Bret Henderson’s residence. Turned out he only owned an apartment. We had Ron meet us there with a warrant, got the key from the complex manager, and made our way up to Henderson’s floor. When we got to his door I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. His door was ajar.
We cleared the apartment. Nothing. Where to now. I called Tanya Cordova, the 4th member of the team, who was at home asleep, and had her come in. I needed all hands on deck and I needed them now. We locked and sealed the door, left Ron posted outside of it, and called Doc and Ben to come check it out. When Gary and I got to the car I called the chief to see if he could get a bolo out on Henderson’s car. Hopefully he’s in it.
“Taylor,” the chief answered. “We found Reynolds.”
“What? Where?”
“Dead. Dumped on the side of the road. Two to the chest one to the head, execution style.”
“Peterson’s doing the autopsy now. I’ll let you know what he finds.”
“Well for the record. I think he was in on the robbery.”
“No. witnesses said it was a one-man job.”
“Getaway driver?”
“Possibly. Good thinking.”
“Talk to ya later boss. No wait! get a bolo out on Bret Henderson’s car? hopefully he’s in his own car this time.”
The last lead we had was Alice Wells’ residence. Her fingerprints were found in the fusion that ran the truck off the road and she was the only person we had not checked up on yet. She was not the probable owner of the car but her fingerprints had turned up several times.
We had to find Grace. I hoped Alice Wells house produced a lead. We drove, yet again. When we got there I both breathed a sigh of relief and prepared myself for the worst. Henderson’s pewter Chevy Suburban was in the driveway. Hopefully that meant Grace was here. We drew our weapons, got out of the car, and surrounded the house. Tanya and Ron took the back. Gary and I took the front door.
We kicked in the front and immediately heard them kick in the back. There was no one in the living room I moved down the hall. Gary took the kitchen where he met Tanya. I met Ron after the first bedroom and we moved together toward the second bedroom. That’s when I saw it. Blood. I went high he went low. The room was empty. I nodded towards the closet, the definite origin of the blood. He turned the handle and swung it open. I poked my Glock in took a quick look, about keeled over at the smell, and then I saw it. One body. A woman. I checked for a pulse though i knew by the smell and pail skin that she had been dead for hours. Then I turned her over. I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Grace. A more thorough look revealed it was Alice Wells. And there went our last lead. Doc and Ben weren’t going to be very happy. They had probably been up over 24 hours each and this was there third house to sweep. Couple that with the dead body and they had their work cut out for them. I hoped they’d find something, anything that would lead to Grace. That poor woman.
We set up a perimeter, taped it off, and sealed the door. Ron headed to department HQ to start the paperwork. There would be a lot. Tanya and Gary alternated guarding the house so and I took a nap in the Charger. Doc and Ben pulled up, unloaded their equipment and went to work. I hoped they turned up something, anything.
After about an hour I heard a knock on the window of the car. I rolled down the window.
“I have surprising news for you, Jackson.”
”She was in a gunfight?” I guessed.
“Well not necessarily... but she does have GSR on both hands,” he confirmed.
“But no shots were fired in the house. She was shot and dumped in the closet later. So my question is: why the change in MO?” 
“And the answer?”
“Different killers?
“Do you have a new suspect?”
”No. But it’s possible that Alice Wells killed Wesley Reynolds and then Bret Henderson killed her.”
“So…  why the falling out. Someone got greedy? That is, if they were even involved in the bank robbery.”
“Oh I would say Ms. Wells was most probably involved. You see, when a person handles a dollar bill ink residue rubs off on their hands just as oil from their hands rub off on the bills. And there was a significant amount on her hands. If we find Bret Henderson with the money, we could confirm that Alice Wells was indeed involved.”
“Good work, Doc. Any other leads?” I asked.
“I think so. We found Grace Hill’s fingerprints in the first bedroom, and Bret Henderson’s are all over Grace Hill. He searched her before he dumped her.”
“So Grace was here.”
“Where would he have taken her?”
“Good question. I’d find out sooner rather than later if I were you,” Doc said.
“Thanks for your help, Doc.”

Chapter 7 – The Only Sure Thing in Life

We headed back to the department to pour through the evidence from the bank heist and rerun background checks on all the suspects. Wesley Reynolds had no family, which was a relief in a way, because I hated notifying next of kin of a deceased relative. Alice Wells, on the other hand, had a mother, sister, and son, no kids. Her husband had died of cancer three years earlier. That would be a hard call to make. Finally Bret Henderson. His friends and family would be the most crucial because he was still at large. He had a brother, an ex-girlfriend and a child. We would start there and make the calls to Alice Wells family after the case was closed. It was still too early to say she was involved in the bank robbery and that would be a blow to everyone related to her.
I had been around death a long time but it still hit me hard. I guess the day you go numb to such a thing is the day you should hang up your hat. Being the compassionate man that I am, I always hated making the phone call to the poor guy or girl who’s loved one had just passed away, or been killed, or murdered, or whatever. But life goes on.
We pulled Bret Henderson’s brothers records. Alex Henderson, like his brother, had several traffic violations, including DUI, reckless driving, and resisting arrest. We would interrogate him first and go from there.
“Gary, grab your gear. We’re pickin’ up his Mr. Henderson’s brother.  Tanya, pull his ex-girlfriends criminal record, phone records, bank records. I want her little league softball record. I wanna know how many times they spoken in the past 5 years. I wanna know where they went on their first date, where they had their first kiss, everything.”
”On it, boss.” Tanya was a good officer. She had only been with the force a few years but she had proven herself, in the field and in the office. She did great work. Always very precise. She handled everything with a certain finesse. She was like a little sister to me though. I couldn’t see myself seeing Tanya. She was almost too good. I would hate for my girlfriend to outshine me someday.
“Oh and Tanya, we are working with Robbery and Theft on this one, so keep them in the loop if anything comes up.”
“Got it, boss. Get outa here.” She grinned at me. She had a winners smile and a winners spirit. Always kept it light but also always kept it clean. She was a Catholic, a fact I couldn’t quite accept and had even tried to talk to her about but she was set in her ways.
Now wasn’t the time to be daydreaming. I had work to do.

We rolled up to Alex Henderson’s apartment and got out of the car. We didn’t have a warrant or probable cause so I hoped he was home. I rang the doorbell once and knocked twice, as was my custom, and got no answer. he didn’t appear to be home so we headed back to the car. As we did Alex Henderson rolled up in his big black F-150. Perfect timing.
“Alex Henderson?” I asked. “We’ve got a few questions for ya.”
“Can we make it quick?” he asked.
“I’m afraid not. We’re gonna need you to come down to the station.”

Chapter 8 – I Want the Truth

I sat down, slapped the files from the bank heist and the car crashes on the table, opened them up, and took a sip of my coffee. It was my fourth cup this morning. I had been up for almost 30 hours and it surely showed. I slid a few pictures from the bank heist over to Alex Henderson sitting across from me in the interrogation room.
“Know anything about this?” I asked.
“About what exactly? …A bank robbery?”
“That’s exactly what it is.” I said. “Those photos were taken two days ago after a Wells Fargo was hit up for a quarter of a million dollars. Your brother Bret is the main suspect. Seen him lately?”
He came by a few weeks ago to pick up a few DVDs of his that I borrowed. Oh and we met at Five guys last… Tuesday. We keep in touch pretty well. Why? You don’t think I know anything about this? “Cause I don’t.”
”Standard procedure is all.Where were you on Friday?” I asked.
”Friday? I was… at home. I was doin’ some yard work.”
“What kind of yard work?” I probed further.
“What?”
”What exactly were you doing?” I demanded.
“I laid some mulch, mowed, and watered the lawn. Ask my neighbors. I’m sure they saw me. I was out there for a few hours,” he said.
“Own any guns?” I threw another folder across the table at him.
”What’s this?” He slowly opened the folder.
”That’s Wesley Reynolds. Shot three times. Two to the chest and one to the head. Someone was thorough.The photo under that one is of an Alice Wells. Also shot to death.”
”Well I didn’t rob a bank and I didn’t kill anybody.”
”I said do you own any guns?”
“Of course not.That’d be a violation of my parole. Why are you doing' this to me?” He changed the subject.
“Because I don’t believe you.” I stood up, gathered up the files and turned toward the door.
“Am I done?” Henderson asked.
“You’re done when I say you’re done.” I replied coldly.
“I told you. I don’t know anything. What else do you want from me?”
“I want the truth!” I said firmly.
“That is the truth!”
“For your sake I hope so.” I said and left the room. “Altimus. He’s all yours. Ron took Alex’s official statement and Gary and I went to question his neighbors.

I knocked on the door.
“Hang on!” I heard a cranky old man shout. Great. Just what we needed. An ornery old geezer who probably didn’t know anything anyways. He finally came to the door.
“Sorry officers. I was on the john. What can I do ya for?”
“We were just wondering if you know of anything peculiar Mr. Alex Henderson has been up to recently. Noticed anything strange? Have you seen him around at all actually?”
“Come to think of it… he has been gone the past few days. Think he went on some kinda trip. Saw him load up and take off a couple of days ago. Why? He ain’t dead, is he?”
“No sir. He is quite alive. He just needs an alibi for Friday afternoon and anything you’ve noticed the past few days would be of help as well,” I said.
“Well like I said, pretty sure he’s been gone the past few,” said the old man.
“Thank you, sir. You’ve been very helpful. I left Gary to take his statement and made a call.
“Cordova, are Henderson and Altimus still in interrogation?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.” She answered. “Been there since ya left. Whatcha got boss?” she asked.
“Have Ron ask him where he’s been the past few days. Neighbor says he’s been outa town. And pull his credit I wanna know there this moron was all week.” I hung up.

After knocking on a few more doors, getting the same story, taking several statements, and being chased by a dog, we headed back to the station to the resume interrogating Alex Henderson.

Chapter 9 – Liar Liar

“Where ya been. All your neighbors say ya been gone the past few days.”
“I spent some time camping out in Boerne at the Caverns this week. That’s one of the perks of being self-employed. Vacation whenever ya want,” he said smugly.
“Why didn’t you bring that up earlier?”
“Well I guess you never asked,” he said even more smugly.
“Hope someone can confirm that. Got a receipt?” I asked.
“For camping?”
“Well you better find someone to confirm where in the world you where all week or you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“You can’t hold me without cause,” he scoffed.
“No but I will make your life miserable. You won’t be able to change your socks, take a leak, or walk your dog without my say so.
“Look I told I was camping. I paid in cash and didn’t ask for a receipt. That’s not against the law,” he continued to defend himself.
I got up. “You see this badge? This badge means I have the responsibility and the privilege to pick your life apart ‘til I’m satisfied that you’re not guilty. Until then. You just sit tight.”  I got up and left.
“Tanya whatcha got?”
“I got an ATM transfer on the Thursday the sixteenth for 80 bucks. And he filled up on gas in San Antonio on Monday. Looks like the liar might have been telling the truth the second time around.”
“Altimus,” I said. “Get that bum outa here.”
I sank into my chair. We had no more leads.

Grace was tired and scared. She had been tied up and gagged, crammed in the back of a truck, moved into a house and tied to a chair, and moved back into the truck. They had pulled over once, fired a a few shots and loaded what she assumed was a body into the truck bed. They had pulled over and the two men in the car were discussing their next move.
“Look. We already got rid of Alice and Wes. I say we off the girl too and be rid of her. She’s just slowing us down,” said one voice.
“No. She’s more valuable to us alive,” said another.
“Well she’s gonna be the death of us both. Why did we hafta kidnap her anyways?”
“Because, idiot, she saw our faces. She could have identified us both.”
“Well she still can. The only way to be sure she never breathes a word about us if we make sure she never breathes again.”
“I said we’re taking her with us. It could come in handy to have a hostage. You never know. Once we’re safely over the boarder we can decide how to… dispose of her.” A door opened and slammed ending the argument. Grace shuddered. She had never been so afraid. Afraid of what might happen when they no longer needed her. Afraid of what might happen if HPD found them. Afraid of not knowing.
“Don’t worry girl, you’re not a complete goner,” the man in the passenger seat said as if reading her mind. Somehow she had a difficult time finding comfort in his words. The car door opened again.
“Listen up, both of you, here’s how this is gonna go.” 

Chapter 10 – Waiting

“Boss. It’s late.” It was Gary.
“Coffee.” I raised my head off the desk where I had fallen asleep. I had only had about twelve hours of sleep here and there in the past three days. And it was showing. I got up and stretched as Gary went for some coffee.
I hated waiting. I felt so powerless. I had to be in the field rounding up the bad guys, doing the leg work, doing something. I loved my job but there were two things I hated about. The first was waiting. Waiting for leads to come in. Waiting for bodies to be found. Waiting for forensics and coronary reports. I couldn’t stand the sense of helplessness. The second thing I hated was the paperwork. And there would be plenty of it after this case was over. Might as well get started on it now while I had a little time.
Gary returned with my coffee, black as always, and I sat down to write the reports on the searches of Bret Henderson’s apartment, Wesley Reynolds house and Alice Wells’ place. Reynolds place was trashed. Henderson appeared to have left in a hurry. Alice Wells was dead. Boy was this a doozey.
I prayed for Grace, prayed for her safety, clarity of thought, and strength to get her through this. Wherever she was, she would be scared. She might be hurt... I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to throw the whole computer across the room. I had to settle for throwing the mouse. I had to find her.
“Taylor.” It was the chief. “Go home. Get some rest. Before you take your frustration out on anything else in this place.”
It was a good idea. I needed the rest. We had no leads until Henderson’s truck turned up and I had been up most of the past 72 hours. I walked to the Charger, got in, and turned the key in the ignition.

I laid my head on my pillow and dozed off. My phone rang. I checked my clock. I had been asleep about 3 hours.
“Go,” I said.
“I got something, Jack.” It was Gary. “Been keeping an eye on Henderson with the ops satellite. His F-150 was just spotted outside a Motel 6 off of I-10 near Mason Creek.Plates are confirmed. It’s him boss.”
”Grab your gear and let’s go.” By now the case was so blown up we had all the guys from North Central and North Patrol backing us up. This would be a stealth op first but we had the manpower to make it an all-out war. Hopefully it wouldn’t turn into a gunfight and Henderson would surrender when he realized he was caught. That would be his smartest play. And you have to be smart to rob a bank these days. If things went well everyone would walk away alive. Including Grace. I was so relieved to finally be fairly sure of her location.

We rolled up to the motel in my unmarked charger with the whole district around the corner blocking off the street and diverting traffic. We were not taking any chances. We got out and surrounded the east building that Henderson’s F-150  Tanya and Ron took the east wing and Gary and I took the west. Jansen Gregory, one of our Homicide comrades, radioed confirming that Henderson had checked into Room 211. We made our way up the steps, and met at the door, Tanya and Ron on the right and Gary and I on the left. I signaled 1,2,3 and kicked the door down.
“HPD!” I yelled. “Hands in the air!” I saw Grace in the corner, tied to a chair and gagged.
Ron moved along the right wall toward the bathroom with Tanya at his back while Gary and I threw open the closet door and found three black duffels. It had to be the cash.
“Clear!” I yelled.
“Don’t shoot!” yelled a familiar voice as Ron swung open the bathroom door.
“It’s the other Henderson boss,” Tanya informed me as she bent him over the counter and cuffed him. “I knew he knew more than he was telling us.”
“Where’s Bret?” I asked him. He didn’t respond. Bad move. “WHERE’S BRET!” I shouted into his ear picking him up and slamming his face into the mirror.
“Boss, cool it!” yelled Gary.
“Fine, dirt bag. Add 20 to your sentence.” I pulled the gag from around Graces mouth. “Are you ok?”
“He’s coming back. He went for ice,” She yelled with her heart in her throat.
“Ron stay here.” I shouted. “Gary, Tanya. on me.”
I radioed for back-up. “All units move. Bret is in the building. Go. Go. Go.”

Chapter 11 – Showdown

No sooner did I leave the room than I saw him. He had shaved and died his hair but there was no mistaking Bret Henderson 30 feet away. I pointed my Glock him. “Hands in the air.”
He set down the bucket of ice he was carrying and slowly raised his hands. I took one step towards him and he took off running. He rounded the corner and ran towards the railing. I thought “Surely he’s not gonna jump.” 
But he did jump. He jumped up onto the railing and pulled himself up to the third floor in one fluid motion. I was impressed. very impressed. “Gary take the stairs. Tanya the elevator.” I hopped up onto the railing. Grabbed the ledge above me and carefully pulled myself up. By the time I made it up to the third level and looked around I realized Henderson must have jumped up to the roof. I pulled myself up to the roof and saw him about to jump. “DON’T DO IT!” I yelled!
I aimed for his leg and pulled the trigger. He jumped.
I ran to the edge of the roof and looked down. I thought for sure I had hit him. There he was though, swinging from a tree limb onto the second floor. He then jumped to a dumpster on the ground level and took off toward the McDonalds down the street. I hoped that HPD had cleared it already and that we wouldn’t have another hostage situation on our hands. Then I did the bravest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I jumped. I grabbed the branch in mid-air, held on for dear life for a full second then swung back and forth and jumped to the dumpster. The lid caved in. I jumped out and sprinted after Henderson.
“All units, he’s in the McDonalds down the street. I repeat he has just entered the McDonalds. I saw about 10 squad cars pull around the corner including my charger. It was Gary. I thanked God. We met at the door and I squatted below the window. He took cover by the wall on the other side of the door. I took a glance inside. Nobody. I thanked God again. This would end here.

We had the place surrounded. Cruisers continued to pull up. Then the Chief rolled up in his Camaro. He got out, pulled out his megaphone, and hollered:
“We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands up!” No answer. “Alright,” he announced to the officers on sight. “Let’s do it. Breach, bang, clear on my count. Gary pulled out a flashbang. The flashbang was a great tool when it came to infiltrating any hostile environment. The grenade is non-lethal but produces a great amount of light, sound, and pressure disorienting and confusing anyone in the vicinity.
He pulled the pin but held on. I heard the Chief count it off. “3,2,1, Execute.” He pulled open the first door and I ran through. I pushed open the inner door and he tossed the flashbang inside. We shut the door and covered our eyes and ears. Bang. If he was in the room. He would be easy to take down at this point. He would be temporarily blinded and stunned. He wouldn’t hear us coming either. We moved to infiltrate. I went high Gary went low. He wasn’t in the eating area. We turned toward the back with officers at our backs. I turned into the kitchen and Gary went down the right wall toward the bathrooms. That’s when I felt it tear into my left arm. I had been shot. I ducked, pulled back up and returned fire.
“He’s in the kitchen.”
I heard shotgun blasts. Officers swarmed him. I slid to the floor in agony. This wasn’t my first bullet wound. I had been shot several times in fact but this was a large caliber weapon. It hurt more than anything I had ever experienced. I surveyed the damage. A few inches to the right and the round would have gone straight into my vest. This bullet wound take weeks to heal. I would be out of commission for quite a while. I needed a vacation. I laughed to myself.
When I stood back up I saw him being secured. He had also been shot. Once in the leg and once in the shoulder. Then everything started to go black. I took a knee and slowly fell to the ground. I fainted.

Epilogue

I looked down. I was lying on a a hospital bed. My arm was bandaged in a sling, there was an IV in the other. I  breathed a sigh of relief and looked around the hospital room I was in. There was Grace. She and Gary were sitting on the sofa. I sat up. She rushed to my side.
“Oh I’m so happy your alright. I just…” I stopped her.
“It’s ok. We’re ok. You know, when I get released and debriefed, finish all my paperwork and everything, I’d like to take you to dinner. Ever been to the Hickory Hollow. Best chicken, steak, and ribs I’ve ever tasted.”
“I’d like that.
“It’s a date then.” I grabbed the cup of water of the bedside table and took a swig. “Gary, did they recover all the money?”
”Most of it.” he said.
“And Henderson?”
”In custody, awaiting his trial. He better get a life sentence. He copped to killing Alice Wells. Claimed Wells killed Reynolds though, just like the doc said. 
“I’m just glad we’re ok,” Grace said.
“Heard that,” replied Gary.
“Um… I have a gunshot wound here. That should not classify as ok.”
“Shut up. You’re alive, right?” Gary teased.
”True true. Though I have been better.”
“Been worse too. Like when you got hit by that bus? Now that was awesome,” he inserted.
I stood up, adjusted the sling my arm was in, and pulled out the IV. “Let’s get outa here. I am sleeping in my own bed tonight. That’s for sure.”
We headed for the door when Grace put a hand on my shoulder.
“Hold on,” she said. “You were hit by a bus?”