Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [classic children's novels txt] 📗

The light was beginning to fade, and the roads were wet and shiny with drizzle, but I couldn’t afford to drop below fifty. The Jag gripped the road like it was nailed to it, and I prayed to whatever gods look after reckless cops that I wouldn’t encounter anyone on the road around the next bend. Because I would not be able to stop.

Then, at Tomkin Cove, I was suddenly out in open countryside. I floored the pedal and did a hundred and twenty along the riverbank. I came to a fork in the road and slammed on the brakes. I knew where I was. There was a parking lot on the left, and I pulled in and stopped. I climbed out of the car and cocked my automatic. The way I was feeling right then, Zak would be a very lucky man indeed if he went away for life.

He’d be a lucky man to make it to the trial.

I moved down the road at a steady run. There were dense areas of trees and bushes on either side, and though they were bare of leaves, they were thick enough to provide cover in the failing light. I came in sight of the church and hunkered down behind a tree. The road forked again just ahead, and the left branch curved in a crescent through an open esplanade of grass, where the old church stood with gabled roof and spire. Parked out front, on a patch of muddy lawn across the road, were a green Cherokee and a Ford pickup. That meant I was dealing with six of them, tops.

Even if the main entrance to the church was open, which I doubted, going in that way was not an option. I began to circle back, through the trees, to see if there was a rear entrance to the vestry. I covered about a hundred and twenty yards at a ducking run, to what looked like a toolshed set about thirty yards back from the front of the church. It was dusk turning to dark, but I could see a red door. There were no windows.

I paused to think. I needed some kind of plan. The Feds would arrive at some point, and when they did, I knew exactly what was going to happen. Storming a stone church with no windows and only two doors was not easy, and the whole damn situation would degenerate into some kind of Waco-style standoff. I could not afford to do that.

I checked Dehan’s phone. I had less than two and a half hours. That meant one thing: my plan was to go in and get her. There was no time for anything else.

I readied myself for the sprint to the door and heard a soft click in my ear.

“Freeze. Put down the gun and tell me who you are.”

My mind flashed through the options. If he was one of Zak’s Angels, he wouldn’t be asking me who I was. He’d just blow me away. That meant this was a Fed. I said, “I’m Detective John Stone. I’m here to get my partner out of that church alive before you Feds set up a Waco circus here, and I am not going to put down my gun. Are we clear?”

The guy sighed. “At least show me your badge.”

I showed him.

“I can’t let you go in there, pal. They’re on their way. Your captain is with them, and the instructions were very clear. ‘When Stone arrives, clap him in irons if you need to, do not let him go in.’”

I turned and looked at him. If he was standing up, he would be six six at least. He’d probably been a quarterback at college and looked as tough as concrete. He smiled and held out his hand. “Agent King.”

I gave him my best rueful smile and shifted my automatic to my left hand. He thought I did it so we could shake. He was wrong. I did it so I could land a right cross on his jaw that would have put an elephant to sleep. He fell back with a soft splat in the wet grass, and I sprinted to the door. I had about five minutes, if that, before the circus arrived. I tried the handle and was not surprised to find it was locked. I took off my jacket and wrapped it around the barrel of my gun. It muffled some of the sound when I blew out the lock. I waited. Nobody came storming out, so I inched open the door and edged in.

I was in a short corridor. There were a couple of doors that looked like storerooms. At the end, the passage opened out into the nave of the church, and I could see a few rows of pews. From the left, there was a soft glow of light. I moved forward a couple of feet and peered around. There was the altar, and beyond it, in the transept, somebody had some candles burning, and I could hear the murmur of voices. I waited, hoping to hear a female voice. I didn’t.

What I did hear was the thud of a chopper and the wail of sirens. Then I heard cussing and swearing, and I saw six Angels, all armed, run toward the main door at the far end of the church. There was a gallery above the door that I figured had room for about eight pews. At the back there was a window. The access to the gallery was via a short wooden staircase. Four of them took positions covering the door, and Zak and another scrambled up the stairs to look out of the window.

Even these guys were not stupid enough to forget they had a back door. I had a matter of a few seconds in which to decide