Chapter 15 #2
“It’s not long now,” Everett said. “Another ten or fifteen minutes and we’re in business, right, Freddie?”
“You’re not gonna shoot anyone this time, are you?” Freddie asked.
Everett frowned. “No shooting needed because there’s no one there. It’s empty, Freddie, okay?”
Freddie shrugged. “You said you weren’t gonna shoot anyone before, and you tried to kill a man.”
“And if you had done what I asked you to do, that wouldn’t have happened, right?” Everett said.
Freddie frowned. “You never said, don’t talk. You didn’t say that, Everett. You never said, ‘Freddie don’t talk.’”
“Fine. Fine. Just let it go, damn it. You’re right. I never said don’t talk. I never said be quiet. And we’re almost there, so calm down, damn it. I need to concentrate.”
Satisfied that he’d made his point, Freddie had nothing left to say, and all too soon they were driving past a quick stop, then past the Yellow Rose, past the big gas station, and into the parking lot at the bar.
Everett braked just long enough to get his eye on the drive leading to the back of the bar, then turned off the headlights, and using the light from the streetlights, slowly drove behind the bar.
* * *
Gunner saw the car slowing down.
“They’re here…and they’re heading to the back,” he said, then took off running.
Dylan was in the utility room, waiting for them to come in through the back door.
Gunner and Asher were crouched down in the kitchen, hidden by walls and furniture. Waiting.
* * *
Everett opened the trunk, handed the shovel to Freddie, then took his flashlight and the pry bar, and headed up the porch steps, pausing at the door long enough to jimmy the lock, then slip inside.
Everett was leading the way, sweeping the LED flashlight from right to left as they moved into the kitchen.
“Everett, I can’t see,” Freddie said.
At that moment, Dylan flipped on the lights behind them, illuminating the utility room and the kitchen.
Everett gasped and spun around, saw the big man standing between them and the exit, and shouted. “Son of a bitch! Get him, Freddie!”
Dylan was braced for impact when Asher and Gunner bolted, hitting them with the full weight of their bodies, and taking them down from behind.
The Brandt brothers hit the floor belly first, knocking the breath out of their lungs. As they were struggling to catch their breath, Asher and Gunner handcuffed them and rolled them over on their backs.
The first word out of Everett’s mouth was a curse until he saw the guns aimed at them, and he shut his trap.
Freddie saw the guns and started crying. “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot. I don’t wanna die.”
“Neither did our father, but you tried to kill him anyway,” Asher said.
Everett’s shock was visible. “Father? Kingston is your old man?”
“All of us are his sons. You picked the wrong man to mess with,” Gunner said.
“We came for what was ours by right,” Everett said.
“You mean the money your dad stole, and our mother buried?” Asher said, and then grinned at the stunned look on their faces as he and Gunner flashed their badges.
“Once Dad identified you two as the men wanting to buy the bar, we ran background checks on all of you. It was just a matter of working backward. After we figured out what you were after, we did a little digging of our own. We found the strongbox buried in the basement and turned it over to the FBI two days ago. You’re going back to prison for attempted murder, and the money is back where it belongs. ”
Then he handed his gun to Dylan. “You and Gunner just shoot them if they move. I’m going to call the sheriff.”
Gunner kicked the toe of Everett’s boots. “I’m gonna shoot you if you even open your mouth.”
“I’d just as soon shoot them anyway. I’m a general contractor. I can bury them in so much cement on a job site that their bodies will never be found,” Dylan said.
Freddie peed his pants, and Everett actually shuddered. Prison was looking better by the minute.
Asher was leaning against the wall as he made the call, and was waiting for the answer.
“Briscoe County Sheriff’s office. What is your emergency?”
“This is Asher Kingston. We’re at the Tumbleweed Bar in Crossroads. My brothers and I have the two men who tried to kill Jacob Kingston in cuffs. We need officers and transport assistance, ASAP.”
“Do you need an ambulance?” the dispatcher asked.
“Not yet,” Asher said, and disconnected. Then he took the gun back from Dylan. “Brother, if you don’t mind, would you please turn on all the lights in the bar, and watch for the sheriff?”
“With pleasure,” Dylan said, and began turning on lights all through the house as he went.
* * *
As usual, Pearl was sleeping with her window open and was one of the first to hear the sirens.
She got up and ran to the window, and when she saw lights flashing, and all of the vehicles pulling in at the Tumbleweed Bar, but with no ambulances following, she guessed the Kingston brothers had called the police for a reason.
The night air was cold, but she kept watching until she saw the officers bringing two men out in handcuffs, and the Kingston brothers walking out into the parking lot behind them, and guessed it had something to do with Jacob being shot. Whatever it was, they clearly had everything under control.
“Lord, those boys are something,” she said, and took herself back to bed, snuggling deep beneath the covers.
* * *
Four blocks south, Nora was awakened by the strident sounds of sirens.
“Oh my God, it happened!” she said, and flew out of bed.
She needed to know if Asher was okay, if the brothers were okay. But whatever was going on, they didn’t need her crashing the party.
She kept telling herself this is what being married to a cop was going to be like. Knowing his job always carried that measure of danger. Trusting that he knew exactly how to take care of himself, and that he’d always be coming home to her.
But sleep now was impossible. Still in Asher’s old football jersey, she slipped on a pair of sweatpants and stepped into her fuzzy slippers, and went straight to the living room with her phone. Then she turned on the gas fireplace, curled up in the chair beside it, and waited for him to call.
* * *
As soon as the perps were turned over to the sheriff, Asher sent a text back to Phil Eldredge, the night security guard.
Perps are in custody. You are officially off of guard duty for the Kingston family. Many thanks for your service.
Eldredge saw the text, sent back a thumbs-up emoji, then notified his brother and the main office, and went home.
* * *
Matt Reddick was on the scene in the parking lot of the bar, eyeing the suspects as they were brought out in handcuffs, with the Kingstons right behind them.
“No bloody noses. No bruises. I am impressed,” he said.
Asher didn’t comment, but Freddie had plenty to say.
“Them two was gonna shoot us, and that one was gonna bury us in cement,” Freddie wailed.
“Them two, as you put it, are officers of the law. If you tried to escape, they would have had every right to do so,” Reddick said.
Dylan shrugged. “Mine was more of a promise than a threat, but only if they moved. The complainant did pee his pants, but I didn’t count that against him.”
Reddick knew what this meant to Jacob’s sons, and he was more than slightly surprised by their restraint.
“At any rate, good job, all three of you. I’ll need written statements regarding the arrest, but strictly for the files.”
“If it hadn’t been for your cooperation, and agreeing to the press conference, this wouldn’t have happened,” Asher said. “We owe you.”
“We’ll call it even,” Reddick said. “Go mop up the pee and get some sleep. Give Jacob my best,” he said, then got in his cruiser and followed the deputies who were transporting the prisoners.
And just like that, the law was gone, and the sirens were fading as they drove farther and farther away.
“I’ll mop up the pee,” Gunner said.
“I’m going to call Angie,” Dylan said.
“See you in the morning,” Asher said.
His brothers smiled. “Tell Nora we said hello.”
Asher just kept walking.
* * *
Staring out the darkened windows was like staring into an abyss.
“He’s okay, he’s okay. I know he’s okay. I just need to hear the sound of his voice,” Nora kept saying, repeating it over and over like a prayer.
And then her phone rang. When Asher’s name came up on Caller ID, she was so anxious she dropped the phone, then dropped to her knees, scrambling to pick it up.
“Hello. Asher? I’m up. Are you okay?”
He took a deep breath. “It’s over. We caught them. No one’s hurt. Sheriff Reddick has them and I’m walking to your house. Put a light in the window, darlin’, and unlock the door.”
The line went dead. Nora flung the phone onto the couch and ran.
Asher had just come out of the alley and headed for her house when he saw her porch light come on.
He started running.
Nora swung the door wide as he came up the steps, and then she was in his arms. He kicked the door shut, turned the lock, then started down the hall, carrying her in his arms.
The covers of her bed were all jumbled from her hasty exit, but sleep wasn’t on their minds.
“Naked,” Asher whispered, and began taking off his boots and then his clothes, as Nora stripped down to bare skin.
“On the bed,” he said, and followed her as she lay down, then he buried his face against the curve of her neck and held her. “Love you, Nora, with every beat of my heart.”
And before she could answer he was kissing her, and then inside her, and nothing else mattered but that mad chase to ecstasy.
* * *
They fell asleep together, and made love again before daylight, and were basking in the aftershocks, when Nora delivered her news.
“I sold the house yesterday to Sonny and Maggie Bluejacket. They bought it furnishings and all for their foreman and his new bride.”
Asher’s eyes narrowed as he ran his finger down the side of her face. “Good for you, and we just gave it a really good send-off. But does that mean you’re leaving town now?”