The Ghost of a Chance (Krewe of Hunters #38.7)

Chapter 4

Waiting was one of the hardest things law enforcement learned to handle.

Jackson knew it was a waiting game—and one he had to win.

He stood in the office, trying to make sounds that would elicit curiosity rather than alarm.

Something that would draw Kenneth, the cold-blooded member of the team, to him.

Knowing that he had to take the man out without making noises that would create greater alarm and cause a troubled young man in a terrible mental state to start shooting randomly.

But David was there, helping them and keeping communication going between him and Angela when it wouldn’t have been possible any other way.

Waiting…

Making the little ticking noise, stopping it, starting it again.

And then…

Jackson was flattened against the inside wall when Kenneth finally stepped into the room.

He moved in a flash, crooking his arm around the man’s neck and stopping his ability to cry out, squeezing hard enough to make him lose his breath, tightly enough to keep him from fighting, thrashing, and making noise.

He eased off the choke hold when the man passed out, lest he inadvertently kill him.

Even as the man slipped to the floor, Jackson kicked his gun far from his hand, rolled him over, and then cuffed him.

To his great relief, he immediately heard a commotion in the hallway outside the door.

With Kenneth on the floor, handcuffed and unarmed, he dared to step out, his heart beating just a little quickly.

Angela.

But he needn’t have feared.

Billy Mendelson was on the floor with Angela perched over him, wielding his gun. She looked at Jackson.

“Had to borrow his. I mean, we were out with the kids for the day. I wasn’t armed. I guess that was good. I don’t think they ever knew I was law enforcement.”

He smiled at her.

While Kenneth might have been a cold-blooded killer…

Billy Mendelson, not so much. And Angela had known that. She had also known that someone in such a condition could fire out of fear or because he was surprised.

But now…

Billy Mendelson lay on the floor, sobbing.

“I didn’t want to. I never wanted to!” he cried.

Jackson barely heard him. His temptation was to run to his partner, his wife, and hold her, simply thanking God that she was all right.

In the professional world, temptation had to be fought.

He pulled out his phone and called Bruce McFadden, alerting him that the perpetrators were down.

“Get them. I’m going for the hostages,” Angela called.

Jackson nodded, dragging Billy around to put him with Kenneth, both securely cuffed, while he headed to the front of the bank to open the door and let the feds and local police who had gathered in. When he finished, he discovered that Angela was standing by the vault, trying to communicate with those inside.

“They use an eye scanner. And Elise is locked in the vault with the others.” Angela groaned. “There has to be a way—”

“There is,” Bruce McFadden announced, coming in with a man of about fifty, professionally dressed, white-haired, looking serious and concerned. He headed straight to the vault and entered the numbers. Stepping forward more, he let the vault scan his eye.

“Peter Grafton, manager,” Bruce explained to Angela.

“Thank God,” she murmured, stepping back.

Hysterical people began to emerge from the vault. For a moment, Jackson thought Angela’s greatest danger might be getting trampled.

The men, women, and children in the vault rushed her, wanting to thank her for all she had done—talking and giving herself to the robbers so they could be safe.

Naturally, there was chaos after such an event. There would be reports and investigations, and it would be a long time before they could just go home and be with their kids.

Paperwork, like waiting, was long, painful, and necessary.

Bruce paused at Jackson’s side, speaking quickly. “I took the liberty of calling Mary so she can go and get your kids from the fundraiser. I hope that’s all right.”

“That was brilliant. I don’t know what we—or the Krewe—would do without you,” Jackson assured him. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Bruce and his brothers were special agents with their unit. The Krewe had grown to encompass many agents in every state, and even the Blackbird Division, working in Europe. Thankfully, they were left alone for the most part.

They had an amazing success rate, mostly because they didn’t stop. But then again, they had help. From those such as Captain David Clancy.

Bruce—and the other Krewe members who had stepped in to take witness statements—made sure the people in the vault knew they could receive help if they needed therapy, suffered nightmares, or any other such thing. Bruce nodded imperceptibly in David’s direction, knowing he deserved their thanks.

Jackson wanted to know him, needed to know a great deal more about him.

It wasn’t until the initial melee of the takedown and the following confusion that he remembered what he had seen in the tunnel.

It was easy enough to explain that he’d read somewhere about the tunnel that led from northern Virginia to DC during the Civil War, but damned if he could remember where he’d read about it. Desperation had helped him find it.

The ghost of Captain Clancy watched him with amusement when Jackson explained how he’d gotten into the bank unseen and without setting off any alarms.

Bank robbery was a federal crime, which meant that Billy Mendelson and Kenneth would be taken to a federal facility, one he and Angela had easy access to.

They learned early that Kenneth was Kenneth Martin, an escaped convict who had previously robbed a savings and loan, killed a teller, and was sentenced to life. Of course, a life sentence didn’t mean anything if a man managed to escape.

Billy Mendelson was another matter entirely. From the time they took him into custody, he’d begged to talk to Angela.

“I do need to talk to him,” she told Jackson, looking at him with a pained expression. “I think Kenneth somehow forced Billy into what he was doing, Jackson. I don’t know how, but… Billy is no killer. I played it as carefully as I could because I didn’t want him to start firing in panic or because he was startled or…you know what I mean. But something there isn’t right.”

Jackson nodded. “I remember the case. His house was robbed, and his parents were killed.”

“If you’ve been through that—”

“Angela, people react differently to that kind of tragedy and trauma. Maybe Billy wanted other people to hurt the way he was hurting,” Jackson said.

She shook her head. “You weren’t with him, Jackson. I’m telling you, something was going on there. And he’s in such a fragile state.”

“All right,” he told her, smiling. “One of the things I love about you, Angela, is that despite everything we’ve seen and done throughout the years, you still have tremendous empathy. If you’re right…”

His voice trailed off. He suddenly thought about the strange bit of white he’d seen in the dim glow of his phone’s light in the tunnel.

“What?”

“Um, yeah. You want to talk to Billy. We’ll set it up for the morning. As for me… I think I saw something strange in the tunnels. I want to go back down there.”

Angela arched a brow and grinned slightly. “You mean you saw something besides fetid water, feces, and that kind of thing? Oh, my God. You do stink. You need a shower—maybe two or three.”

“Aw. And all I wanted to do was hold you.”

She slid into his arms. “Even stinking like a sewer, you’re the best man I’ve ever known,” she assured him. “And there you go. Now, we both need showers.”

Night had fallen, and they had finally finished all the reporting, paperwork, and signing they had to do.

Angela would speak with Billy Mendelson in the morning.

And maybe Jackson would get Bruce or another of the McFadden brothers down to the tunnels with him. And David.

The ghost had hung around as they finished up their day. But when they were leaving, he caught up with them outside. Angela, being Angela, immediately said, “I can’t tell you how grateful I am, Captain. You saved us all.”

David nodded. “My pleasure, ma’am. I can’t tell you how it thrills my soul to know that I was able to be of assistance.”

“You are such an incredible man,” Angela told him. “I’m hoping—”

“I’ll come see you, I promise. But I know you have children. You two go on home now. I can’t smell anymore, but I can only imagine you stink something awful.”

“Okay, okay,” Jackson said, laughing. “I smell. I’ll go do something about it. But—”

“I will see you at your Krewe headquarters,” David promised.

“Thank you,” Angela whispered.

David left, and they traveled home.

Corby was a teenager and had heard about everything that had happened. He didn’t seem to care that his parents smelled; he was just happy to hug them both. Victoria was younger but sensed how bad things had been and hugged them fiercely, as well.

Even Mary pulled them in, with Angela apologizing profusely as she did, warning her that she would end up smelling, too.

Mary, Special Agent Axel Tiger’s aunt, had been a godsend. She loved living near her nephew and looking after Corby and Victoria.

But it was late. When she left, they got the children to bed.

Then they looked at each other and headed for the shower.

“I think I’m too yucky for this to actually be romantic in any way,” Jackson told Angela.

She laughed. “I did say you needed several showers.”

“You know, some people think it’s fun to get down and dirty,” he teased, drawing her into his arms as the water sluiced over them.

“I…hmm, I don’t know. I don’t think they mean this kind of dirty,” Angela informed him, laughing.

“So, we must get undirtied to get dirty?”

“Something like that.”

And so they scrubbed. But scrubbing to get clean was a pretty cool thing to be doing, one that touched all the senses as soap and water slid over them, both together and apart. By the time they no longer smelled of anything but soap, they were laughing and in each other’s arms, trying not to slip as they exited the shower and headed toward their bed.

Jackson knew he’d led a hell of a life. But Angela had always been the most amazing part of it. They could almost think as one and made the best partners in the world when it came to work. And when they came home…

They always understood each other. How touching, holding, and being together as one created the beauty in life when it was so necessary, sending their senses soaring. And then later, still lying together, entwined…

But morning always came.

Though waking up beside her was just as beautiful.

When the day began again, they got the kids ready and headed into work.

Once there, Angela left almost immediately.

She wanted to understand what was going on with Billy Mendelson. Psychiatrists might tell her it was a reaction to what had happened to him.

But Angela wanted more. Much more.

As for Jackson, he headed to Bruce’s office. The agent was studying his computer and looking baffled when he walked in.

Bruce looked up when he saw Jackson. “Sorry. I’m just, um, perplexed. It’s still bothering me. So, you and Angela took down the guys in the bank. But how were they planning on getting away? There must have been someone else out there. The police checked every parked car, but…I was out there, Jackson. I was out there, and I never saw a getaway car or anyone else ready to help them in their escape.”

“I wonder…” Jackson murmured.

“Wonder?” Bruce pressed.

“All right, yesterday. Here’s the scenario. They’re in the money vault. They’re being careful, trying to take small bills and cash that can’t be traced. Kenneth watches as Billy and Angela choose the money and pack the cases, and I began making an annoying noise—not an alarming one, just annoying.”

“Right.”

“So, when Kenneth came into the office, he had his gun out.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yes, under most circumstances, I guess. But what if he knew?”

“Knew what?”

“What if he knew about the tunnels that were part of the sewer system? What if he came into the room, ready to shoot anyone who had also figured out the tunnels?”

“You think he sees the dead, too?” Bruce asked.

“No, no. There are records somewhere. Lost in history, perhaps, but they must have existed.”

“You think maybe he was planning to escape through the tunnels?” Bruce asked.

“I’m thinking it’s a possibility,” Jackson said. “I’m telling you. Naturally, I was in a hurry yesterday—lives depended on us stopping Billy and Kenneth—but something was bothering me.”

“What did the captain tell you?”

Jackson shook his head. “I don’t think he’d been in there, at least not for a long, long time. We’re lucky he knew the old tunnels had become part of the sewer system and that the bank building was there through it all, even if it did serve as something else once. But…”

“Something bugged you, and we go on gut instinct. Your gut says we need to check out the tunnels,” Bruce said.

Jackson shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? Yuck,” Bruce said, grinning.

“It might be a little better today,” Jackson told him. “I called and asked about getting some of those coveralls the sewer workers use. But…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce told him. “I’ve followed you into worse places. So?”

“Into the sewers we go,” Jackson said cheerfully.

* * * *

Angela was glad for her position with the Krewe as she visited Billy at the holding facility. She was able to assure the guards that she’d be fine with him uncuffed.

She wanted Billy comfortable and at ease as they spoke.

“You,” he said as they brought her in. He looked away.

“Yep. Me. Billy, I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday when I catapulted myself on top of you. I think you’ll understand I had to get the gun away from you.”

He nodded, still looking away.

“Please, Billy. Talk to me.”

“Hey. You caught me. But you couldn’t catch the bastards who killed my parents.”

“I’m so sorry. We weren’t on that case, but I promise you now that I’ll do everything in my power to see if we can become involved.”

“They wore masks and gloves,” he said. “They even laughed when they talked about it. They weren’t going to leave any DNA. No fingerprints.” He paused for a minute, his face wrinkling in a mask of pain. “They planned on killing them all along.”

“I am so sorry, Billy. So, so sorry. But I know Kenneth forced you into participating in his planned holdup yesterday. What I don’t understand is how he managed to do it.”

“Does it matter? I’ll go to jail regardless. And I don’t care.”

“No, Billy, you need to care. You’re a good person, and I’m going to prove it.”

“How do you know I’m so good?” he demanded, looking at her at last.

“Because I’m alive,” she told him softly.

That was when he began to cry.