Jamie Garrett - Riley Reid 02 - Fire and Lies

Fire and Lies

Riley Reid Mysteries #2

Jamie Garrett

PUBLISHED BY:

Wild Owl Press

Copyright © 2014 by Kids n More Pty Ltd – All Rights Reserved

jamiegarrett.com

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and locations portrayed in this book and the names herein are fictitious.  Any similarity to or identification with the locations, names, characters or history of any person, product or entity is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

- From a Declaration of Principles jointly adopted by a Committee of the American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. 

No responsibility or liability is assumed by the Publisher for any injury, damage or  financial loss sustained to persons or property from the use of this information, personal or otherwise, either directly or indirectly.  While every effort has been made to ensure reliability and accuracy of the information within, all liability, negligence or otherwise, from any use, misuse or abuse of the operation of any methods, strategies, instructions or ideas contained in the material herein, is the sole responsibility of the reader.

Any copyrights not held by publisher are owned by their respective authors.

All information is generalized, presented for informational purposes only and presented “as is” without warranty or guarantee of any kind. 

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Chapters

Prologue: Crescent Moon

Date Night

Pressure

Heresy

Comfort

Independence Day

A Close Call

Firebird

Repetition

Metal Works

Homecoming

Sun Burnt

A Little Elbow Grease

Shell Shocked

Pine Lane

The Chase

Under Questioning

Hash Browns and Coffee

Epilogue: One Last Look

Off the highway in Barbour County, West Virginia, was a run down, dingy motel called the Crescent Moon. It was the sort of place where you’d bring home bedbugs if you were lucky and crabs if you weren’t. Only half of the rooms were in good enough shape to actually be rented out.

Most people didn’t even notice the Crescent Moon Motel’s existence. From the road it almost looked abandoned. There was a sign out front that advertised the place. Half the neon lights were out. A cartoon drawing of a crescent moon with a face was more creepy than inviting.

The only people who stayed at the Crescent Moon Motel were up to no good. Husbands would cheat on their wives with prostitutes or mistresses. Addicts would get rooms in order to go on uninterrupted benders. It was also a haven for people on the run, people like Troy and Dana Reid.

It was August 10, 2001, and the Reids had a desperate desire not to be found. The people after them were not reasonable people. There was no making up with them. There would be no deals. If they were discovered, they’d be killed.

Understandably, Troy was nervous. Every couple of minutes he’d look out the window. His eyes darted around in the dark. He made sure to get a room that looked out on the highway. That way, he’d see anyone coming. There was no access to the Crescent Moon other than the entrance. Behind the motel was swamp land.

“Relax, they’re not going to find us,” said Dana. She was lying on the lone bed.

“Shut up,” said Troy, calmly.

“They probably forgot about us. Hell, it’s not like they’re going to miss it. Why would they waste their time coming after us?”

Troy knew it wasn’t his wife talking but the pills. But it was irritating nonetheless. “Of course, they’re coming after us! You don’t do what we did and just go free!”

“You’re just being paranoid.”

“And you’re just high. Now would you please shut the fuck up.”

Dana sighed and rolled over.

Troy kept his eyes on the entrance and parking lot. Sitting on the nightstand behind him were two guns. One was a Glock with a full clip. The other was a .22 caliber pistol. He had gotten them from a pawn shop before leaving Virginia.

A mile away on the highway, two black SUVs headed towards the Crescent Moon Motel. Inside of them were five men. All of them were armed with submachine guns and shotguns. Each man was prepared to do some killing.

When they reached the motel, they turned their headlights off. They were attempting to be stealthy. But Troy still saw them.

“Get up!” Troy retrieved the Glock. He tried to get his wife up.

“Why?” asked Dana. She was already half asleep.

“They’re here!”

Dana sat up suddenly. “What?”

Troy checked to make sure there was a bullet in the chamber of his gun. “They found us!”

“What are we gonna do?” Dana spiraled quickly into a panic. She darted around the room.

“Get your gun! We don’t have any choice. We’re gonna have to shoot our way out.”

Dana stopped and gave him a sideways look. “Shoot our way out? Are you crazy? Do you think you’re some kind of action hero?”

“Do you have any better ideas?” asked Troy as he started stacking objects from the room on top of the air conditioner under the window. “If you do, I’m all ears.”

“Yeah, we run! We run so far that they’ll never find us.” Dana started to help her husband barricade the window.

“There’s only one way out, baby, and that’s through them.” Troy had forgotten about the window in the bathroom that led to the swampy lands behind the Crescent Moon.

The men got out of their SUVs. They took position behind the vehicles and pointed their weapons towards the Reids’ room. One of the men, a middle-Hispanic man, started yelling out to them.

“We know you’re in there! C’mon out and you won’t be harmed! All we want is for you to give us back what you stole! Again, come out and we won’t hurt you!” The man stood in front of one of the SUVs to make sure that he was seen. Even though he insisted on peace, he had a Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun in his hands.

One of the housekeepers emerged out of the room next to Troy and Dana’s. She saw the men with guns and screamed.

“¡Vete de aquí!” said the shotgun-toting man.

The housekeeper left her cart of cleaning supplies behind and ran for it.

The man turned his attention back to the Reids. “You have ‘til the count of five. Then we start shooting!” He joined his fellow thugs behind the SUVs.

“One!” Troy and Dana finished their little barricade.

“Two!” Dana propped the lone chair in the motel room behind the door, under the door knob. It was meant to stop anyone from opening it.

“Three!” The couple kissed each other.

“I wish I could see our daughter’s face just one more time. I wish I could hear her voice,” said Dana. She started to tear up.

“It’s probably for the best,” replied Troy.

“Four!” Troy and Dana aimed their guns through the small cracks in their makeshift barricade.

“Light em’ up!” yelled the Hispanic man.

The men behind the SUVs began shooting at the room. All that gunfire was deafening. Troy returned fire, looking over briefly at Dana. His wife seemed a little shocked by the chaos. Pieces of their barricade went flying.

It wasn’t long before the flimsy barricade completely fell apart. Troy tried his best to stand his ground. A bullet to one of his hands not only made him drop his gun but sent him into a retreat.

There was just too much firepower for the Reids to deal with. Within minutes, they were lying on the floor next to the air conditioner. The thin walls of the motel room put up very little resistance to the submachine guns and shotguns.

Dana crawled to check on her injured husband. It wasn’t a serious injury but enough to make holding a gun with that hand impossible.

“I’m going in,” said the Hispanic, shotgun-toting man. His compatriots stopped firing but kept their guns trained on the motel room.

Warily, the Hispanic man approached the room. Inside, the Reids were falling back to the bathroom. Troy went first. He saw the window. Making sure to stay quiet, he showed Dana the prospective escape route. Then they heard the sound of someone stepping on broken glass.

Dana motioned for Troy to go out the window. She intended on following him. But when she saw the shotgun-toting man trying to open the front door, she stopped. It became obvious that both of them weren’t going to get away before he got inside. Maybe it was a new-found sense of courage, maybe it was love, or maybe it was the drugs. She was going to make a stand.

The man gave up on the door and decided to climb through the broken window. As soon as he appeared on the other side of what was once a window, he saw Dana standing there with her gun pointed straight at him. Before he could duck or fire back, she let off two shots. One missed and the second hit him in the eye. He died instantly.

“C’mon! Dana!” Troy was outside. He stuck his head through the bathroom window in an attempt to get his wife’s attention.

She turned and smiled at him. Tears were running down her face. It was the end, and she knew it. Dana was tired of running. Behind her, Troy could see the other men running towards the room.

Troy didn’t stay to watch his wife get killed. He heard his wife’s death in the dozens of gunshots. There was no time to think about it. All that mattered was survival. So he ran.

It was the night of July 2, and I was on a date. Amy Paxton, an officer of the Stone Harbor Police had set it up. The handsome man, several years my younger across the table from me, was a stranger. His name was Jimmy Alvarez. And he liked to talk.

“So … tell me about being a PI. Is it as exciting as it sounds?” asked Jimmy. He had an easy smile, like a comedian or conman. The candlelight produced shadows that highlighted the contours of his face.

“Exciting?” I laughed and then finished my wine in several large gulps. Jimmy was eagerly awaiting the rest of my answer. He looked like a child waiting for the ending of a story. “There’s nothing really exciting about it. In fact it’s mostly waiting and researching.

“C’mon, there must be more to it than that?”

“Not really.” I called over the waitress with my hand.

“What can I get you, Miss?” Miss? I didn’t like being referred to in that way. It made me feel old. When it came from a lovely young woman in her early twenties, it made me feel ancient. She didn’t know that though. There was no need to be impolite.

“More wine, please.”

The young waitress nodded and left our table. We were in the middle of DeRomano’s, an Italian Restaurant in Newport News. It was a nice place. In the summer, diners were given tables outside on the top floor deck. From there, you had a picturesque view of the bay and the surrounding town.

Every table had a small candle on it. Glass candle chimneys enhanced the light they gave off. I could smell the salt water. Fumes from the kitchen made my mouth water. It was a situation I would have loved to be in with anyone but Jimmy.

There was nothing wrong with Jimmy. He was nice enough. But the date was doomed from the start. Amy practically forced me into it. As much as I wanted to decline, I knew doing so would lead to more drama than it was worth. Besides, I think it was a test. She wanted to know if I was attracted to men, for reasons obvious to anyone who had ever met her.

“Didn’t you help bust that crooked rehab center? What was it called … New Horizons?” Jimmy just didn’t give up.

“Fresh Horizons,” I corrected my date.

“Sorry, Fresh Horizons. That must’ve been exciting.” Jimmy dug into the complimentary basket of fresh bread.

“They tried to kill me and my best friend.”

The grin left Jimmy’s face. Perhaps my answer was a bit harsh. “I … I didn’t know. I’m sorry to hear that. Who tried to kill you?”

My mouth often got me into trouble. I had a bad habit of speaking before thinking. “I don’t know. But I will figure it out.”

Jimmy smiled again. “I’m sure you will, smart girl such as yourself. And you’re not only smart, but beautiful…”

I stood up. “I’ll be back. I need to use the ladies’ room.”

I left the table and Jimmy, and went downstairs. It was crowded. Saturday nights were exceptionally busy for DeRomano’s. The place was popular, especially for couples. Despite the amount of people there, it was romantic. And more importantly, it wasn’t too expensive.

As I waded through my fellow diners, I wondered. Did they love each other? Were there any other victims of arranged meals like myself? Was the tension sexual or nervous?

Men and women gathered around the bar. Each one of them struggled to get the overworked bartender’s attention. I almost pitied them. Then I remembered that I wasn’t exactly having an awesome time, either.

There was a wait for the women’s bathroom. That was okay with me. I didn’t really have to go that bad. It was an excuse to get away from Jimmy. In my purse, I heard my phone ring. When I took it out and looked at who was calling, I saw Detective Sam Greyson’s name. I held a hand over one ear and then answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Riley. Are you at your place?”

No, unfortunately I wasn’t at home. Instead I was out on a blind date with a nice but annoying guy and I wanted Sam to come save me. “No, I’m out. Why? What’s up?”

“It’s Lisa.”

“Hold on.” I quickly made my way to and out the front door. When I got outside where it was quieter, I asked, “What about Lisa?”

“I think you should get down here. She’s a mess. Just … can you get down here?” If I could somehow manage to travel through the invisible phone transmission and choke an answer out of Sam, I would’ve. Why not just tell me what happened?

“Yeah, where are you?”

“At the station.”

“Okay, I’ll leave now.” I hung up and hurried back into DeRomano’s.

“Is everything okay?” asked Jimmy as I arrived back at our table, out of breath.

“I gotta go; I’m sorry.”

“Oh … okay.” Jimmy was confused and a little disappointed. “Can I at least walk you out?”

“No, that’s necessary. Bye! Thanks for dinner.” I hurried away towards the stairs to the ground floor. Then I rushed out the door and to my car.