[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

for legal purposes. She was content. But not happy in the true sense.
Chris Stevenson 217
On the third day of her stay, Detective Bulmer brought her a hot lunch. He sat with her on
the bunk, holding another package in his hand. It was a large paper bag. When he opened it, she
found a bushel of red roses with a small card attached. The roses were on the wilted side, appearing
to be several days old.
 I m so sorry about this, said Bulmer.  Sebastian brought them here a week ago. He asked
that they be given to you if you ever showed up. With everything that has happened, I forgot about
it. I had them stored in the evidence refrigerator. I deserve a good smack.
Avy thanked him, then laid the flowers on the bunk, along with the small card. She laughed
when she saw the print on the takeout bag. Burgersaurus.
 Something wrong?
 No, it just seems that everybody wants to fatten me up. It s nothing kind of an inside joke.
I had a date there once. She remembered something about onions.
They talked about her accommodations while they ate. She expressed her gratitude about the
treatment, even admitting to guilt from all the attention she had received. He gave her accolades for
her courageous efforts to help in the investigation, explaining that they couldn t have progressed
with such speed without her. When the meal ended, the bald-headed detective stood up to leave.
But he lingered at the open cell door. She saw a light in his eyes that hadn t been there a moment
ago. His next words had a serious edge to them.
 We re going in with SWAT in a few minutes. We re taking him down, Avy. Then we re
going over to his house to pick up Elizabeth. Everything is in place. He paused for a beat but
allowed a wide smile to split his face.  It defies regs, but I m calling the shots. I thought you d like
to be there. I m afraid you ll be confined to the vehicle some distance away because of the safety
factor, but at least you ll see the end result.
She rose to her feet.  Oh, oh yes. I would. Tears threatened to spill. She fought them off.
This was the time to stay strong. The endgame was in sight.  I need to go!
He dressed her in a Kevlar jacket once they were outside the cell. Ten minutes later, she was
sitting in the cab of a SWAT van, seated next to Detective Bulmer.
The driver tipped his hat to her.  Congratulations, ma am. Your first arrest?
 Uh, yes it is, she said in a shy voice.  I just hope you will all be careful.
 I won t be in on the arrests. I ve been assigned as your bodyguard.
The van lurched. They headed out of the driveway onto the street.  No fear, said Bulmer.
 We have a layout of the plant and know that he has an armed security force. We re going straight
to his office. No fuss, no muss. I ll be the arresting officer.
Avy lost a few fingernails by the time they arrived. The van pulled up in the decorative
flower garden next to the front door of Cyberflow Electronics and Software, mashing down a row
of marigolds. Avy watched from the confines of the van as several officers dressed like storm
troopers rushed the entrance. The detective was right behind them, taking swift strides.
* * * *
218 Gate Walker
Bulmer felt a surge of adrenaline course through him when they ran past the wide-eyed
information clerk in the lobby. They took the stairs two at a time until they reached the executive
floor. Once in front of Drake s office, Bulmer yelled out,  Raleigh Police Department open up!
He tried the door, finding it locked. He waved his hand.  Hit it.
Two cops wielding a battering ram, knocked it off its hinges. Six uniforms rushed in, M-16s
raised.
Drake bolted upright in his chair, pitching a magazine over his shoulder. A loud thump came
from underneath his desk.
 Get out from behind that desk with your hands up! a cop bellowed.
 What the hell is it about? Drake demanded.
Detective Bulmer flashed his badge.  It s about thirty years, give or take. Drake Labrador,
you are under arrest for accessory to murder, attempted murder, murder for hire, obstruction of
justice, tampering with evidence, and arson.
 Get those hands out where we can see them, ordered another cop.
Drake waddled around the desk. He emerged, tripping over his pants, which were wrapped
around his ankles.  Don t shoot, Drake pleaded.  I m not packing.
A female SWAT officer looked at his naked groin.  You can say that again. Now hit the
floor.
A cop rapped his gun butt on the desktop.  You! Get out here and assume the position.
Linda Wu crawled out from under the desk into the open to splay herself out.  Awe, shit,
she said.  They were going to get divorced anyway. He made me do it.
Someone said,  Clear.
Infidelity on top of it, thought Bulmer. He read Drake his Miranda rights twice just so he
understood them.
Drake looked up from the floor, straining his neck.  You have the wrong man. It s Lizzy!
She put me up to it. He began to whine.  She orchestrated the whole thing! You don t understand
what it s like living with her. I never went through with it I just couldn t. She s a demon a
witch, I tell ya! That ball an chain is some nasty-ass juju.
Now Bulmer could understand how everything Avy had told him about Drake made sense.
It was a typical scenario the browbeating wife in control of the submissive husband. No doubt,
Lizzy had been running Cyberflow ever since Drake had inherited it. The neurotic decision making
of a pill-popping, menopausal, hedonist bitch had, over the years, sapped the company of any
success it might have had.
Bulmer ordered two officers to break from the main assault team, canvas the property, and
then  roust all the security guards for weapon s permits. Two other officers were told to search
the plant for employees who could serve as potential witnesses against their employer. Bulmer
also gave them specific orders to arrest the security chief, Augustus Hollywood, for his willing
involvement in the crimes.
Chris Stevenson 219
One down, one to go, thought Bulmer.
* * * *
Avy rolled her window down when she spotted the suspect in custody being frog-marched
through the lobby. By the time Drake exited the front entrance door, he was spilling more beans
than Juan Valdez, hollering about turning state s evidence because he refused to take the fall.
Bulmer s voice boomed,  This isn t let s make deal, Labrador. When we tie you in with the
Wax Man murder for hire plot, you ll go down for the deaths of seven officers, one civilian, and
one small dog. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]