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“Thief,” he hissed.
She could see the side of his face was turning splotchy and red where the Taser prongs had penetrated the flesh, and blood was oozing from the wounds, dripping down his cheek onto the floor beneath him. But she had no empathy for his pain.
“The pot calling the kettle black. You’re the one who came in here to kill me, and it’s all on video,” she muttered, and then the moment she touched the wallet, she knew he was part of The Righteous.
She pulled out his driver’s license, took a picture of it, put it back in the wallet, then shoved it in his pocket. She had a new enemy and he had a name.
Barrett Taylor.
Taylor heard the click when she took the picture, and guessed what she’d just done. And when she’d returned the wallet to his pocket, he began to panic. His people wouldn’t be happy this had happened.
“Others comin’...know what you are,” he mumbled.
A chill went up Wyrick’s back, and then she got mad. More coming? No, by God! Not again!
She kicked the bottom of his boot again.
“And now I know who you are, too...and where you live. And, I know what you are, and what you came to do. The Righteous are not going to be happy with you. You know what they’ll do. They don’t like failure, do they?”
He shuddered. “How you—?”
“If you really knew who I was, you wouldn’t have had to ask that question. Looks to me like they set you up to be the sacrificial goat to get rid of me. Did you know that ahead of time? Is this your little cult’s version of dying for the cause, or are you just that stupid?”
He moaned. “Jus’ doin’ Lord’s work.”
“God didn’t tell you to do this. The leader of your little swamp-rat cult told you.”
If he could, Taylor would have spit in her face, but his drool was already running on the floor because he still couldn’t feel his lips.
Wyrick was beginning to hear sirens, and so did Taylor.
He closed his eyes, still moaning from the pain, and wished he could begin this day all over again.
“Feels like you got hold of a hot wire and can’t let go, doesn’t it?” Wyrick said. “Be glad it was me who caught you and not Charlie. He would have shot you where you stood for what you did to me, before he ever bothered to call the cops.”
After that Barrett Taylor went mum. He heard the police cars pulling to a screeching halt in the parking lot outside the building, and made his peace with what was.
Two officers took the stairwell up, as two others took the elevator, thereby blocking off all avenues of exit. They merged in the hallway, and headed up the hall toward the office of Dodge Investigations, coming in with their guns drawn.
Once they realized Wyrick was standing upright, and the intruder was handcuffed facedown on the floor, they holstered their weapons.
The first officer introduced himself. “Ma’am... Wyrick, I’m Officer Bullard. Are you okay?”
“Obviously,” she said.
“Is he the only one?” Bullard asked.
She nodded.
“Exactly what happened here?”
So Wyrick proceeded to explain.
“It’s all going to be on the security cams. They are at both ends of the hall outside, as well as one over the door to our office, and then there are ones in here, as well. He was waiting for me. When I opened the door to leave, he kicked it in, hit me with his fist, then was reaching for his gun when I Tasered him. I pulled his wallet and took a picture of his driver’s license, then put it back in his pocket. Knowing the identities of my enemies is what keeps me alive, even though his cult isn’t known for brilliance...just hate. He was going for the gun when I fired the Taser.”
Officer Bullard frowned. “Cult? You know him?”
“I know who he belongs to. They call themselves the Church of The Righteous. They’re based in Louisiana, and have been throwing out all kinds of warnings on their website about my existence, saying I’m an abomination, ranting about how I need to be ‘taken care of.’ Taylor just bragged there are others coming after me, too. Needless to say, I’m pressing charges against him for assault and attempted murder.”