Page 36 of Vanish From Sight (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #2)

“Yeah?”

“Jethro there?” Thomas asked.

“Jethro!” he heard another man say over the mic.

A straggly looking individual with shaggy sun-bleached hair that fell across his forehead came to the door. His style was casual and laid-back with a white T-shirt, jeans and flip flops.

“Where are the dogs?” he asked.

Thomas leaned forward and told them he couldn’t find a close parking spot and the dogs were in the van. Law enforcement could hear every word just in case he decided to tip his cousin off. “Just tell her to grab them. I want to go.”

Jethro looked over his shoulder. “Teresa. They’re here. He wants a hand bringing them in.” Another beat. Voices in the background. His cousin continued, “I know. I told him but there are no parking spaces close enough.”

Cursing came from the back of the apartment before she came to the door.

“You know I don’t pay you to make me do this,” she said.

“I went to the farm but there was no one there,” Thomas replied.

“Change of plans. Right. Let’s go.”

She and several others exited the apartment, following Thomas just as planned.

What happened next, occurred lightning fast.

As Thomas led them past the blacked-out van, marshals were waiting. Doors opened. Commands were shouted. Out of hiding, multiple local officers and deputies moved in, guns raised.

Teresa made a break for it but only got ten feet before she was tackled to the ground. Noah headed into the apartment behind a slew of marshals.

“Get on the floor! Drop it!”

It was loud and violent as a few chose to go out the hard way, opening fire.

One of them unloaded a 12-gauge twice. The noise was deafening in the confined space.

The first round took out an officer, the second round, took a shark-sized bite from the doorframe near Noah.

He dropped to one knee and squeezed off two rounds, taking down the assailant before unloading on another.

Two in the chest. One in the head. The tweaker dropped hard.

A deputy broke in through the back door. Stoltz and Palmer charged in. Shots were fired, punching holes in plaster and peppering the walls.

Suddenly out of nowhere a freight train hit him.

A naked woman covered in tattoos body slammed him headfirst into the wall.

She tripped, landing hard. She was all nails, screams and spit.

Noah grabbed her by the hair and slammed her nose into the floor, bursting it wide as he tried to get a knee on her shoulder.

All the while shots were still being fired from further back in the apartment.

He caught a glimpse of Stoltz ducking as someone swung at him with a baseball bat. Like rats coming out of the woodworks, drug users emerged in a chaotic meth-driven state of violence.

“Palmer!” Noah shouted for help as he wrestled with the woman who was like a pig in mud. Palmer turned to assist but not before the bat wielding lunatic managed to strike Stoltz in the knee. Stoltz fired upward, sending a round through the user’s skull.

A window exploded. Noah never saw it but he heard it. He figured some of them decided to escape that way. It wouldn’t work, the place was surrounded.

“Would you stop resisting?!”

For a woman that couldn’t have weighed more than one ten wet, she was putting up one hell of a fight. Most were like that when fueled by drugs. They were demon-eyed and pumped up on God knows what. Whatever was flowing through her veins, it was doing wonders as the fight never ceased.

“Stay put, you mad bitch!” Callie landed hard beside him to assist, taking over as he rushed forward to deal with another freight train who fancied himself as an MMA fighter as he was working the body of an officer with knees and elbows.

Noah took out his baton, snapped it to get it to extend, then struck his knee with a bone cracking thud.

He followed up with another strike to his back, causing him to crumple.

There had to be at least twenty crazies inside. As soon as they dealt with one, another came into view, white-knuckled and wide-eyed.

In the hallway, the next lunatic was packing an AR-15. He swung it towards Callie. She glanced up, her eyes wide, but before the asshole could squeeze off a deadly round, a bullet struck him in the temple.

Callie turned to see Noah’s gun hand outstretched.

She mouthed the word thanks.

More marshals charged in and within minutes the chaotic scene was under control.

“Hey, hold up!” Noah said, jogging over to a marshal who was just about to tuck Teresa into the back of a van. “I want a moment with her.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Teresa asked.

“Best of luck,” the marshal said, stepping away.

Noah reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He’d taken a photo from Lena’s home of her and the kids. He held it up, demanding answers. “Remember her?”

“Fuck you.”

Noah slammed her back against the van so hard, others looked over. “Look again!”

With venom in her eyes and spit on her lips, she glanced at it. “And?”

“Why did you kill her?”

“Kill her? What the hell are you talking about?”

“We tracked her to your farm.”

“Well give yourself a fucking medal. We never touched her.”

“What?”

“She was at our farm. Yeah. Nosing around. But once we found out she worked for the paper and that her ex was a cop — guessing that’s you — we let her go!

We put her back in her vehicle and sent her on her way.

My mistake. Fucking bitch cost me thousands but we didn’t kill her. I wanted to. I wish I had now.”

Noah gritted his teeth; it was taking every ounce of restraint to hold back his emotion. “What about Katherine Evans and Laura Summers? ”

“Who the fuck are they?”

He stared back at her, unsure if she was being genuine with her response.

“Look, we’ve done nothing wrong. Sold a few dogs. Whatever, man. We’ll be out before the end of the day.”

Noah motioned to the marshal.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath to that,” he replied as he walked away, his mind in turmoil and confusion.