Fulfilling Promises (Red Starr, Book Five) (27 page)

“But not from my father,” Trigger offered up with a smile, reminding her that he’d thought her stubborn when it had more to do with pride. “Come on. If we finish this up early, maybe we can grab a decent breakfast at the diner before heading back to The Laughing Griffin.”

Before either of them could walk across the small parking lot, Detective Chaisson pulled his unmarked cruiser into the space beside them. His rimless glasses darkened as he exited the car, having those fancy lenses that adjusted to sunlight. He pushed them up the bridge of his nose before speaking.

“I was coming off of the ramp when I saw you two standing here,” Detective Chaisson said, appearing more confident this morning than he had last night. His shoulders were straighter and his stance held authority. “Your team leader must really have some connections. The backgrounds I would have spent weeks collecting hit my desk this morning. I think we have something.”

Devyn shared a look of relief with Trigger and she was grateful when he pulled her close to him. The warmth of his body chased away the chill that had settled deep inside of her, regardless that the temperature had already risen into the seventies this morning.

“Are you making an arrest?” Devyn held the file she’d brought with her to her chest, tidying up business the last thing she wanted to deal with. “Who—”

“No arrest yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised to make one by this afternoon. I’m meeting a couple of other officers at the residence of Justin Yeatman.” Detective Chaisson paused as the news of whom he suspected descended over them like a lead brick. Justin? Devyn was already shaking her head at the implication. Justin couldn’t have done this. “I shouldn’t be sharing this with either of you, but your connections are the reason we’ve even made it this far into the investigation.”

“Why do you think Justin has something to do with this?” Trigger asked, his tone rather cautious of accepting what Detective Chaisson was saying of someone they’d known their entire lives. “Granted, he wasn’t inside The Laughing Griffin when Devyn was attacked, but what motive would he have?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. I’m bringing him in for questioning on the fact that your brother might have owed him money for a gambling debt. You see, Justin has been running a betting ring using the funds from his clients. He’s made a hefty profit over the course of the last five years.”

Joey had been gambling again? Devyn hadn’t expected the sharp twinge of disappointment in her brother, but it was there. He’d told her he’d stopped and she’d believed him. A part of her still did.

“Are you sure Joey owed Justin money?” Devyn asked, clearing her throat so that her words came out clear. “Joey was on the straight and narrow. I know he was out of that crap.”

“I’m not saying your brother was gambling or even if the potential loan was from a current bet,” Detective Chaisson replied softly, almost as if he understood how fragile he’d just caused her faith to be in her brother. “Yeatman didn’t show up for work this morning, so I’m heading to his residence now. I’ll keep you posted on how the interrogation goes and if we have enough to make an arrest.”

“I appreciate that,” Devyn responded, getting the feeling that Detective Chaisson would like a word with Trigger alone. She squeezed his hand in encouragement, letting him know that she was okay. She was still processing the fact that the police thought Justin Yeatman was responsible for murdering three people. “I’m going to go inside and see if I can’t take care of whatever problem it is they’ve run into.”

“Tell my father I’ll be in shortly,” Trigger said, surprising her by lifting her hand and pressing his lips to the back of her fingers. It was such a spontaneous and yet loving gesture. It caused a ripple through her stomach and she realized being with him would never get old…the attraction never faded. How could that be? She pushed that question to the back of her mind as she walked away, the front door no more than twenty-five feet away. “Detective, do you have proof all three men were taking loans from Justin? I understand why you would want to question him, but just how certain are you that…”

Devyn opened the heavy glass door to the bank, the cool breeze from the air conditioning immediately washing over her. She would chide herself later for not looking through the second glass door before opening it due to her thoughts churning and being left outside with Trigger and Detective Chaisson. Maybe then she would have noticed that there were no tellers behind the counter, Jack Dixon wasn’t in his office, or the fact the person who stood there with what appeared to be a twelve-gauge shotgun was the man responsible for her brother’s murder. But it was too late, because Devyn had already drawn open the second door before the dots connected.

“Lock the door behind you, Devyn. It’s time to end this.”

Brian Gathright.

A classmate to Joey Wilde.

A best friend to Ken Faregon.

A sidekick to Luke Stoddard.

A teenage boy who was kicked off the basketball team in high school due to taking the blame for a prank gone bad by Micah Kilgore and Dalton Linney.

It all made sense now, but nothing justified murder.

Brian Gathright was the epitome of an ordinary man in his thirties. He kept himself fit by working out and eating right. Everyone knew of his obsession with staying healthy…it had been the same in high school. He had a good life, especially if the check she wrote yesterday was any indication. Why go on a murdering rampage for revenge now, years after the incident?

Brian moved his mouth into what she assumed was supposed to be a smile. The vile expression sent shivers of fear down her spine, causing her to wonder what she’d ever done to him to make her a potential victim. He appeared rather calm for a man who’d just given himself up without finishing what he’d started. That could only mean he had a way out of here, but what he didn’t understand was that she wasn’t ready to die today.

Devyn slowly reached behind her to turn the deadbolt on the door without taking her eyes off of the weapon in Brian’s hand. Her only hope was to take it from him before he pulled the trigger.

*

Detective Chaisson lifted
his hand in departure and had just opened his door when he abruptly stopped. The calm tone of the dispatcher’s voice came through loud and clear over his car radio. There was an armed robbery in progress, a silent alarm tripped, and she proceeded to rattle off the location, which happened to be right where they were standing.

Trigger didn’t hesitate and ran the twenty-some yards it took to reach the front entrance of the bank, drawing his Kimber before he reached his objective. He managed to get through the first glass door before being stopped at a vision that would forever haunt his dreams. Perspiration coated him despite the cool air inside the small security vestibule.

“Get back, Dixon,” Detective Chaisson ordered with authority, holding open the first door with his foot. “That isn’t up for negotiation. I’ve put in a call for a Special Weapons and Tactics team. They have one out of Memphis on call. There’s nothing you can do at the moment except agitate the suspect.”

Trigger stared into Devyn’s eyes as she stood in front of Brian Gathright, who happened to be holding an old Remington model 11-48 semi-automatic shotgun. Her body was posed in such a manner that she exuded courage, but the terror claiming her mind could be seen shining brightly in her green eyes.

This was the type of situation Trigger faced in his chosen profession, so why then did the procedures mean jack shit right now? Because this wasn’t a typical hostage situation and Devyn was in the clutches of a psychopath…one who had been hiding in plain sight. Wasn’t that always the case?

Trigger never should have allowed her to walk away from his side, regardless that a bank with its own security should have been enough to keep a crazed killer at bay. Why show himself now? Why give himself up to the authorities when he hadn’t finished what he’d set out to do? How many hostages was he holding? Had he hurt anyone on the bank staff? Was his father in there with the rest of them?

“Dixon, pull back. We need to establish a cordon,” Chaisson commanded, holding the door open even wider if that were possible. The hinges were probably about to snap. “The specialist—”

“They won’t get here in time and you damn well know it,” Trigger managed to choke out, his anger at not being able to get Devyn to safety right away chafing his very core. It didn’t escape him that his father was probably inside, another person he loved more than anything in this world. He ignored Gathright altogether as he tried his best to convey to the woman who’d come to mean everything to him that he would get her to safety come hell or high water. “Red Starr’s on site and we have a federal government accreditation in emergency management and HRT operations. We’re experts in these types of situations. Make sure your men don’t fuck this up and we’ll get everyone out alive.”

‡

D
evyn stared at
Jack Dixon with a mixture of fear and hope. His son was outside these four walls and hostage rescue missions were what he had done professionally for quite some time now. This wasn’t any different than rebels in a faraway land taking hostages, was it?

Mr. Dixon and his employees were sitting in a row with their backs against the marble wall. Brian had apparently instructed them to sit on their hands. She recognized the loan manager and tellers, as well as distinguishing them from the two customers who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. They didn’t deserve to be here in this mess.

“Brian, I’m sure there’s a good explanation for this,” Devyn started out, not even sure what she could say to get all of them out of here in one piece. She tried to focus on him instead of his swollen nose and the bandages on his arm from where Diesel had bit down in an effort to stop him from escaping. She would have loved to have that furry ball of fury with her now. “You know me, you know Trigger. We can help you.”

“You want to help the man who killed your brother? Oh, that’s rich,” Brian said in a manner that brought back a sense of déjà vu, letting her know that he was indeed the man who’d tried to abduct her from The Laughing Griffin last night. Only this time there wasn’t frustration lacing his tone, but instead an infuriating mocking quality. He appeared to be totally in control, as if he knew something she didn’t. “I gracefully decline your offer, Ms. Wilde.”

Brian’s gaze left hers to look over her shoulder out the glass doors, which could only mean he was curious as to what was going on outside. Did that mean he had something planned? Devyn gripped the folder still in her hand a little harder, trying to cover up the fact that her fingers were still trembling. Technically, her entire body was shivering in fear, but she wasn’t going to let Brian know that.

“You were a wild one back in your day, weren’t you, Devyn?” Brian asked, sighing in what sounded like satisfaction for a job well done. He’d made the same sound in the exact same way when he’d finished installing her AC unit. It dawned on her that was how he’d stolen the rifle she’d kept underneath her bar in case of emergencies and how he’d gotten her necklace. He must have taken them the last time her downstairs AC unit broke down, because he’d had full access to the entire place while she’d been doing other things. He’d had ample opportunity without the prying eyes of the new security system Trigger had installed yesterday. “I remember the football players talking about those parties you used to attend. You shied away from the basketball team because of your brother, but you sure liked to show it off for those Friday night lights, didn’t you?”

Devyn did her best not to cringe at the walk down memory lane. She hadn’t been any different than any other girl trying to find her way through her teenage years, but her name had given a different connotation to any and all of her actions. A cough came from the wall of hostages, reminding her that Mr. Dixon was in the room and hearing Brian recount every bad deed she’d ever committed or was rumored to have done.

“I think Hunter Parson was your first and then the entire starting offensive lineup after that.” Brian glanced at his watch as if he were waiting for an appointment. He wasn’t dressed in the blue uniform he wore to work, but a pair of jeans and his…