CHAPTER TWELVE
Derek reacted first, sprinting after Raymond. Alison was quickly on his heels.
The three other protestors looked around with bewildered looks as they tried to figure out what was happening. It was likely they’d all been approached by police before when they’d been protesting, but was this the first time Raymond had run from law enforcement?
Alison thought back to Detective Moore and her partner chasing down Franklin Howard. Franklin claimed he didn't know who was chasing him. Did Raymond know Derek was a law enforcement officer, or did he also have other people after him?
Alison flew by the three members of the rally as their mouths hung open slightly at the turn of events.
The courthouse wasn’t busy, and when she rounded the corner, neither were the streets around it. Still, they were in the downtown core of Oakland, so there were some people on the streets, and Alison worried that someone would get hurt in the pursuit.
Raymond was fast. He had twenty yards on Derek, but Derek was also fast and gaining on him.
Alison did her best to keep up. Derek could take care of himself, but she’d rather be there with him as his backup.
Her bag was slung over her shoulder, and the gun her father had taught her to shoot was in the bag.
She’d rather not draw it, especially as they raced toward the center of Oakland, where the foot traffic would become denser.
Derek called out up ahead for Raymond to stop. Raymond paid the instruction no mind.
Raymond turned onto another street running at right angles to the one they were on, followed by Derek. Alison flew around the corner a few seconds later, her thighs burning as the lactic acid was depleted. Still, she pushed to run faster to stay with them and gain some ground.
Something flew through the air up ahead, and it took Alison a moment to realize Raymond had tossed his loudspeaker over his shoulder in an attempt to slow Derek down. The device flew harmlessly over Derek's head and slammed into the ground with a shattering mess of plastic.
Alison had to change her route to avoid stepping on the broken plastic shards. Up ahead, a large public park was filled with people, and it was where Raymond headed. He’d slowed a little after the frantic start, but so had Derek.
Raymond crossed the street with no cars coming, and entered the park, pushing past two people coming out. Derek entered next. Alison looked both ways to see no traffic coming, still, and she crossed the street and ran into the park.
She had to take a second to get her bearings.
The Park was dense with greenery and people.
Young children played in the playground near the entrance, couples strolled with coffees in hand, an older couple sat on a park bench together, and one man walked as if he were angry at the world, talking on a Bluetooth earpiece.
Large oak trees towered above, with rows of bright green bushes below.
The path split into three at the entrance, one to the right, one to the left, and one leading straight ahead.
Alison had a clear view of the route straight ahead after entering the park, and didn't see Raymond or Derek.
She looked to the left and right and came up empty-handed.
She didn't spot the two runners, but she did hear a disgruntled shout from somewhere on the grass to her right, and she took off toward the sound, knowing that the pursuit was still in progress.
When she rounded a bush, Alison saw a young man holding a picnic blanket and shaking it off from where Raymond and Derek had run through it.
Alison ran toward the man and then diverted to go around him. He shook the blanket, then dropped it to the ground as if he were a magician, making the two-man pursuit appear as if by magic.
Alison ignored the burning ache in her lower limbs and pounded the ground after them, watching as Derek slowly gained ground. People were stopping and watching as the two men bolted through the park.
Then, right before the grass was intersected with another asphalt path, Derek dived and swiped at Raymond’s ankles.
Raymond went sprawling, his feet kicking the air behind him, landing on his shoulder. Derek avoided the feet kicking at his face, rolled on his side, and was back on his feet quicker than Raymond. Derek grabbed Raymond by the shoulder as he tried to get up and pushed him to the ground.
"Don't move," Derek warned as Alison caught up to them. Derek took out his badge and showed it to the leader of Balanced Justice. "You stay there, Nichols."
Raymond looked at Derek, then Alison, and finally, at his surroundings, where people were gawking.
Derek turned to Alison. "People have a habit of running from us."
"Weber had something to hide," she replied. "Let’s see if this one does, too."
***
Patricia Montgomery stepped out of her office and grabbed her jacket from beside the main door of the office she shared with three other social workers.
She was the last to leave, as was usually the case, but the empty building didn't bother her, as just beyond the exit was the security desk, and she could see Carlos sitting at the desk as per usual.
Patricia exited the office and waved to Carlos as she walked to the front door. He smiled and waved back. She knew he had a thing for her, but she wasn’t looking for a relationship at that moment, and he obviously sensed enough from her to not approach and ask for her number.
As she left the building, she enjoyed the attention from him, even if he wasn’t obvious about it.
She might not want a man in her life, but still liked to be wanted.
She knew he was watching her as she left, but more because that was his job.
He would see her through the door as she walked to her car, and there was a camera covering the parking lot that he could also see her through.
Patricia got into her car and drove for home.
She yawned as she gripped the wheel and waited at a set of lights for them to change to green.
She wasn’t physically exhausted, but mentally and emotionally.
She’d had four grueling back-to-back counseling sessions, each taking a piece of her that she gave willingly.
Helping people invigorated her, but not immediately.
Once she got home, had a bath, and sipped a glass of wine, she would feel better, proud of herself for helping others.
When she finally pulled up at her home, she felt some unease.
The murders hadn’t been on the news, but one of her colleagues had discovered there had been two murders in the city involving witnesses in court cases.
Patricia had listened carefully as her colleagues had spoken about it, wondering if she had anything to worry about.
It had been three years since she’d testified against the man who’d accosted her in the street, seemingly out of the blue.
If he were ever released, she’d be one of the first to know.
As far as she was aware, he was still behind bars and would be for a long time.
She wasn’t the first person he’d attacked, but became the last after they caught him shortly after.
Her colleagues didn't know about that part of her life.
Patricia got out of her vehicle and walked to the luxury apartment building.
She looked up at the camera above the door.
Inside, there was a security desk, much like the one at her office, except that the desk and the security guard manning it were behind closed doors.
Still, she’d once had a conversation with the building manager and had been assured that they took security very seriously.
She would often see security guards doing rounds, and they would give a nod or smile as they passed.
Are you looking back at me right now? Do you always watch the cameras?
Patricia placed her fob against the small pad to the right of the door, and it beeped. She entered the building and walked to the elevator. She sometimes took the stairs, but she was too fatigued that evening. She hit the button and the door opened immediately. She took the elevator up four floors.
The landing had a pine aroma when the elevator doors opened—the cleaners had been there. She breathed it in, enjoying the freshness, before walking the hallway to her door, which wasn’t as technologically advanced as the main entrance to the building.
Patricia took out her keyring. The largest key, brass, was for the bottom lock and opened the first deadbolt. A small silver key opened the deadbolt she’d had installed eight inches above the first. They were well-oiled and slid open easily.
As soon as she opened the door, the beast came straight at her, running at full speed, a look of mischief in its eyes.
Patricia froze for a moment before her instincts kicked in, and she stepped inside the apartment and closed the door before the cat could escape.
It stopped before her and mewed before turning around as if it never wanted to get out in the first place.
Patricia watched it go, hips swaying side to side, tail up and alert, and she smiled. She often thought of herself as a cat. She liked attention at times, but would rather be left to fend for herself.
She turned and made sure the door was fully closed before turning the deadbolts to lock herself in. She attached the security chain, then dropped the metal bar into the holder attached to the door and into the small, round hole in the floor.
A security company had once come knocking on her door, advocating for the installation of cameras and motion sensors.
Still, she preferred the old-school methods that had been tried and tested for decades.
Additionally, there were security personnel stationed downstairs and cameras on the first level, both inside and outside, as well as a fob entry system.
She’d considered upgrading her security, but decided against it in the end.
Her cat mewed from the other room.
"Give me a minute," she said.
Her cat was hungry and wanted food, and he made it very obvious.
No matter what she said to try to placate the cat, he would stand in the kitchen and mew repeatedly until he got what he wanted.
Patricia took off her jacket and opened the front closet, taking out one of the hangers and hanging her jacket before placing it in the cupboard.
She kicked off her shoes and put them on the small shelf below the hanging garments.
Then, she went through to the kitchen to where her cat was mewing. Only, he wasn’t in there mewing. Patricia could hear his pathetic calls, but they were coming from somewhere else in the house.
She took the half-full can of cat food from the fridge and placed a spoonful in his bowl on the floor. Then, she tapped the bowl with the spoon to let her cat know there was food, but he continued to mew without appearing.
"Have you got yourself stuck?" she wondered before going off in search of him.
The sound led her through to the bedroom where she found he wasn’t stuck at all, but standing before her closet, mewing at the door.
"What is it?" she asked.
The cat looked at her, then trotted off to get his food, leaving her standing there with a bewildered half-smile on her lips. It took her a second, but the smile soured, and it was as it left her face that the worry rippled through her.
He was mewing the door as if something was behind it.
The door burst open, and the figure leaped out to grab her. Patricia’s scream was cut short when the hand clamped over her mouth. She flailed her arms, trying to escape her attacker’s grasp, but it wasn’t enough; there was nothing she could do.
Then a bag was put over her head, which blurred her vision. Her arms were pinned to her torso, the bag tightened around her neck to strangle just enough that she wanted to pass out, but couldn’t.
"This is your fault." The voice sounded far away through the plastic. "You should have minded your own business. I’ll make sure you mind your business from now on and no one else gets hurt." A chuckle. "Well, except for you."
Patricia got one arm free and clawed at the bag around her neck, but her arm was quickly pinned to her body again.
As the world began to spin around her and she grew lightheaded, she heard only one noise. The mewing of her cat, over and over. It was the last noise she would ever hear