Still not mine, still kinda…..oh what the heck, still wish they were, but life, and the story, must go on…
Chapter 24: I Yelled Back When I Heard Thunder but I'm Down to One Last Breath...
Cell phone pressed to her ear, the chief of police strode the length of her office, wondering how the usually spacious area could suddenly seem so small as she reached the far wall and turned on her heel, repeating the process. Pacing in the room and waiting for the tiniest scrap of information was going to be the death of her, Karen admitted silently as she listened to the man on the other end. Still haven't figured out what to do about Mrs. McNab's concern, she mused before responding.
"I know, honey, but we're completely bogged down by all the traffic jams that the storm has caused," Chief Vick explained to her husband, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration at the situation. "No, there hasn't been any more news on Officer McNab, either," she answered with a sigh. When it rains, it really does pour, she thought as she glanced out into the stormy night, But I really wish I was referring to the weather... "If I don't hear something by the time we get all the accidents taken care of, I am going to have to come up with a plan but I'll try to be home as soon as possible," she finished tiredly, blinking when Officer Gelsby knocked on her office door, motioning through the glass that she had a phone call. "I probably won't see you until tomorrow, honey, but I have a call so I have to go. I love you too," Karen finished before hanging up and approaching her desk, picking up the handset.
"Chief Vick," she greeted, trying to stifle a yawn as she sat back in her chair, instantly awake as the person on the other end spoke.
"Chief, It's Officer McNab," her tallest rookie said, something in his voice catching the chief's attention but she was unable to pinpoint exactly what until Buzz continued. "I j-just wanted you t-to know-"
"Officer McNab," she cut in sternly, "Why on Earth are you stuttering?"
"Um," Buzz responded after a heartbeat of silence, "It's a long story, Chief..."
"Well, then you'd better start explaining," Karen declared wearily, suddenly wishing she hadn't sworn off coffee for the remainder of the night. Something in the tone of her officer's voice told her that all the caffeine in the police station wouldn't be enough to keep her energized. Shifting in her seat as McNab started to talk, the harried chief spent a millisecond wishing she could spike the coffee she wouldn't let herself have with something a bit stronger, especially when she started to get an inkling exactly where the rookie's story was going. By the time the man recounted finding the Ford in the ditch, the inkling had morphed into a knot in the pit of Chief Vick's stomach. A familiar knot that she knew was only associated with all the situations a certain psychic consultant was constantly getting himself into. Do I even want to know why the man disobeyed a direct order and ended up almost getting him and his father killed? Karen wondered as McNab's explanation wound down, opening her mouth to ask a question when the sound of a commotion came across the line.
"Dammit, Henry! Talk to me!" The desperation in her junior detective's voice carried across line, sending the chief's heart into overdrive as she scrambled to get someone to tell her what the hell had just happened in that car.
"McNab?! Talk to me, what happened? McNab!" Chief Vick demanded into the receiver, not able to make out anything more than static from the other end of the line. "Hello?! Hello?! Damn it, what's going on?!" She vainly attempted one last time over the background noise before the phone went dead in her ear.
The phone at Rye's ear went dead with a chilling finality. "Great, just freaking great," he muttered, no longer caring if talking caused him pain as he tossed the phone back onto the table. The orders, and the menacing lack of emotion in Potter's voice when she issued them, were pretty much exactly what the massive man had been expecting. Shaking his head to clear it, he glanced through the blinds to check on the weather outside, relieved to see that the former downpour had dissipated to a fine mist in the overcast night.
You know what you have to do, Rye thought, hoping that Potter or Phoenix would be able to do something with their influence to get his best friend out of the predicament in which he'd found himself. And of course I have to make sure to keep my own ass out of jail to boot, thanks to that freaking psychic...Up until he'd met Shawn Spencer, Rye would have sworn up and down that psychics didn't exist, but the massive man simply couldn't come up with another semi-reasonable explanation as to how the man was capable of doing the things he did.
"First things first," he muttered, shaking his head and heading toward his duffle bag to look for a change of clothes as well as two very specific items. Grinning as his hand brushed a very familiar object, despite the pain that the wounds on his face caused, he pulled out his custom Buck Folding Omni Hunting Knife, flipping it open and running his left hand lovingly over the razor sharp blade. I've got the perfect use for you, Rye thought evilly, before closing the four inch blade and setting the knife aside. "Where's the other one," he muttered, rummaging through the clothing in the bag, intent on putting his hand on his Smith & Wesson before worrying about finding something dry to wear. Yes, there you are, the massive man thought pulling out his extra pistol, feeling relaxed for the first time since his favorite weapon had gone sliding across the forest floor hours prior. Just another thing to take outta him when I finally catch up to him, Rye thought manically as he made sure the gun was locked and loaded. Satisfied that both of his tools were once again at his fingertips, he set the Smith & Wesson next to the Buck Knife before grabbing the first two pieces of clothing that his hands touched.
Still avoiding the mirror in the main areas as well as the bathroom and its wall length reflecting glass, Rye hurriedly changed, tossing his still damp clothing next to the door and grimacing when he realized he didn't have any choice but to wear his soggy boots. Man, the list just keeps growin' and growin' over what I'll have to payback for...he thought, grabbing his leather jacket and room key not wanting to waste any time following his orders. His stomach rumbled painfully as he got into the stolen SUV, first task on the list dumping the hot vehicle before allowing himself to get some dinner. "This time I'll wait until after I've eaten to choose a new mark," he muttered, unwilling to sacrifice another meal in case someone noticed something suspicious.
"Maybe a nice, flashy sports car, this time," Rye mused in mock seriousness before breaking into laughter as he navigated the mostly empty streets. Noticing a police cruiser headed his direction, the cocoa skinned man made a quick right turn, glancing in the rearview mirror for any signs of pursuit. After a few minutes of silence, Rye relaxed, pulling into a used car lot and driving the grey SUV all the way to the back. He parked the car, wiping down the gear shift, steering wheel, and doors before walking the three blocks to a small diner he'd seen earlier.
"Oh, yeah, that smells, freaking amazing," he muttered quietly, letting the aromas wash over him as he entered the establishment, not bothering to wait to be seated as the sign stated, but instead making a beeline for a booth in the corner. His waitress, a haughty woman who looked down her nose at him, practically threw a menu at him before demanding, "What'll it be to drink," barely waiting for his muttered 'coffee' before hurrying off.
"Hoity toity, bitch," he muttered, knowing his appearance wasn't helping matters any, nor did his disregard of the sign in the entry. "Whatever happened to the customer is always right?"
His coffee arrived at the table a few minutes later, and the waitress, whose name tag read Anne, waited for his order, eyes on the pad in her hand. He glanced at the menu for a few moments before studying the younger woman with his eyes, getting satisfaction from the knowledge he was creeping her out with the attention. "Well?" She finally snapped, turning to walk away when Rye's hand shot out, grabbing a hold of her wrist. "Sir, if you don't take your hand off me this instant, I will remove it from your body...and then I will call the police."
The massive man merely gave the waitress a cold smile, before releasing her arm and ordering, "Cheeseburger and French fries." He closed the menu before handing it back to Anne, who strode away from his table. Feisty little spitfire, Rye thought, wishing he had time to teach her a lesson. Knowing he couldn't waste any more time, however, before retrieving his employers property kept the temptation at bay.
As the waitress gave him his food fifteen minutes later, the distant sound of sirens could be heard, causing him to freeze in his seat until he could tell they weren't coming this direction. Food first, then a new ride, and finally time to retrieve the painting by any means necessary...
Juliet smiled, despite the worry that was clawing at her every time she caught sight of her boyfriend or his father in the back seat, as she listened to the heroic young officer reassure his wife on the other end of the phone. I'm really going to have to do something nice for Buzz to show my appreciation, she mused, her foot inadvertently pressing down on the accelerator as she glanced in the rearview mirror once again.
"Juliet," Henry barked from the back seat, throwing his arm out to keep from knocking into his injured son, "You know if you slow down a bit, we all might make it to the hospital in one piece."
"Sorry, Henry," she muttered softly resisting the urge to roll her eyes, After all, it really isn't his fault I'm a nervous wreck right now, and he's just as worried as I am, if not more so....Trying to focus on something else as she followed her partner's Ford Fusion, she shamelessly listened to Buzz's half of his conversation with Francie.
"Yes, Francie," the officer assured his wife, "I'm sorry I worried you. I'm fine, really I am, j-just a bit col-ld, but w-we're on our way to the hos-spital right now," he repeated, bracing himself as the junior detective took a corner quickly, listening to the liaison in the back grumble under his breath. "I'm not sure h-how long I'll b-be, I n-need to get checked ou-t by the doc-tor," Buzz explained, "Please don't worry about me F-Francie, I have to c-call Chief Vick to let her k-know what happened," he finished, hanging up as he dialed the station.
"So, Henry, what exactly happened out there?" Juliet asked, trying to examine the older man through the rearview mirror without causing the vehicle to crash as it travelled at an extremely unsafe speed for the conditions. At least the rain had died way down before they had started toward the hospital, so as not to land Buzz's Chevy in a ditch the way Henry must have.
"Shawn and I were headed toward the hos-pital," the elder Spencer began, his shivering and stutter almost completely gone. "And then," he paused, bracing himself as the Chevy took a corner, attempting to sort through his fuzzy recollection that was a direct result of the concussion he was certain he had sustained during the crash, trying to figure out if the flash of the dark SUV he'd remembered in the truck was a real memory or not…"Then," the liaison repeated with more conviction, deciding to trust his instincts, "We were run off the road," he finished, not wanting to admit that his statement was based solely on the flashes of the dark vehicle flying up behind him as he recalled his son uttering 'It's him.'
"What, Henry?" Juliet repeated, unsure if the liaison had hit his head harder than she had previously thought. "Who ran you off the road?"
Henry was quiet for a moment before answering, "Dark vehicle," he muttered, cursing the headache that was pounding behind his eyes, as he glanced over at his son, who had stopped shivering. Heartbeat suddenly matching the rhythm of his aching head, he leaned closer to the unconscious man, touching his icy skin as he started to silently recite every obscenity he'd ever known, and making up a few for good measure. Damn it kid, don't you even think of giving up on me now, as he started to frantically search for a pulse.
The junior detective in the driver's seat was pondering the information that Henry had given her, wondering if the incident was just a coincidence, a figment of the older man's likely concussion, or another run in with the massive man from the mountain. A deafening string of curses filled the car, causing Juliet to jerk the steering wheel suddenly to the left as she jumped in her seat, before bringing the car under control once again.
"What's wrong?!" Juliet demanded from the front seat, started by the sudden outburst from the liaison as she noticed an equally shaken Buzz had dropped his cell phone in alarm. "Dammit, Henry, talk to me!"
For several heart wrenching moments she was afraid the liaison wasn't going to answer, and she knew the only thing that could cause such a violent reaction from the man was his injured son. Even knowing what was likely coming, the junior detective wasn't prepared for the unguarded fear she saw in the older man's eyes when they met hers in the mirror as his only answer was a frantic, "Drive faster."
It's not over yet, but I promise, it's winding down, comfort is coming, and I will never, ever, leaving my loyal readers hanging for long. So, reviews make my day, lift my spirits, and help keep me motivated :D