Murder in the Magic City, G.P. Sorrells [primary phonics books .TXT] 📗

see what had caused all the hubbub before things got out of hand. Sirens wailed in the distance and the do-gooders decided on second thought to let the lawmen do their jobs. Besides, there was no reason to get involved in something that didn’t affect them, was there?

Sheridan’s hand trembled and he let the gun fall harmlessly to the ground. The sight of his baby girl, robbed of her innocence, tore apart the organ conventional medicine would identify as his heart. In his mind, the weapon was now as useless as he had apparently been to her. A father’s most important responsibility is to protect his family, and he failed spectacularly in that respect. He promised himself when he held her for the first time that he would make sure she lived her life to the fullest. That she would graduate college, marry someone who loved her, and maybe even give him grandchildren that he would inevitably spoil as often as possible. But it proved too much for Sheridan. He fucked up and there was no turning back. Emma didn’t deserve this. All he ever wanted was to see her smile. That was impossible now.

A parent shouldn’t outlast their child. It goes against the natural order of things. Why did this have to happen? Just so he could get a piece of ass? Bullshit. This happened because he wasn’t worthy of being her father. She loved him, trusted him, and in the end, he failed her. It would never happen again. If it was the last thing he did, he would make the assholes responsible for this travesty pay for putting it in motion. It wouldn’t bring his little girl back to him, but it was all he could offer. He had to atone for his mistake.

He walked over to Emma. The short distance to her body felt like miles as his jelly filled legs constantly threatened to give out. He kneeled and took her small, lifeless body in his arms, and kissed her on the forehead.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said, fighting back tears. His voice was barely a whisper as the emotional turmoil threatened to overtake him. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

The sirens were getting louder. Any minute now the half-open door would slam against the wall and the men in blue would come to the rescue. His innocence in his daughter’s death would be obvious, but he killed the man in the room in cold blood and would almost certainly be on his way to the station to give his testimony. He couldn’t risk that. Every minute he spent there would be another minute of freedom that those at fault for Emma’s death didn’t deserve. Those minutes may even turn to years if the powers that be didn’t realize he only did what any father worth a damn would have done in the same position. He had to go. Had to disappear and figure out how to get to those who felt his life was expendable. He had to discover how best to make them feel the pain he felt in that moment. The pain he would always feel.

Sheridan took one last look at Emma, a pain filled smile across his face. He kissed her softly on the head and gently laid her body down. Tires squealed outside. Time’s up. He stood up and walked over to Emma’s room, careful to commit it all the memory. A moment later, he opened the window and climbed out. The sound of the officers’ voices carried into the backyard and he knew it was only a matter of time before they surrounded the house. He lowered himself as much as he could from the window ledge before dropping silently into a bush below. Certain he was alone; Sheridan ran to the fence that separated his house from his neighbors’. He jumped up, grabbed the top, and propelled his body over it. By the time the officers had devised their plan of attack, Sheridan was five houses away and moving fast.

Chapter 15

Micah had spent the past day and a half figuring out how best to infiltrate the large condominium that Cagney called home. Determined to find the quietest way into what, for all intents and purposes, had the appearances of a modern-day fortress, he was careful not to miss a beat. Countless souls walked in and out of the building, residents, and employees alike, going about their respective days with no knowledge of the pair of eyes watching over them. On a walk past the entrance, Brantley counted four cameras inside the foyer that welcomed residents’ home.

At the far edge of the room, he laid eyes on the security desk. He had observed enough of their movements to determine when their shifts changed, and he had a good idea about which guard presented him with the best chance of entering the premises unseen. It couldn’t be a young gun looking to prove to law enforcement agencies that he had what it took to work the streets. The man he was looking for was the guy who didn’t care about his job. The type who simply collected a paycheck and worked hard enough not to get fired. An apathetic guard only made his job easier.

He casually moved toward an alley next to Cagney’s condominium, taking in the sights as he drew closer. A swift, brisk breeze announced itself intermittently and kept the typically elevated amounts of foot traffic at a more manageable level. Those people unwilling to deal with the cooler temperatures were inside clubs and bars, making fools of themselves or wasting the night away in the comforts of their homes. Meanwhile, most of the people not experiencing the comforts of warm rooms were making their collective ways to such places.

The condominium itself was a gigantic white tower that stretched fifty-two stories up into the night sky. Plush landscaping and an unusual amount of gold trim around the entrance gave it a feeling of belonging to royalty. Entrance into the