“Lana Winters?” a doctor called as he stepped into the waiting area attached to the Emergency Room, his eyes searching.
Crank and three officers rose. “Here!” Crank said, raising his hand, but the doctor had already spotted the uniforms and was walking toward them.
“She’s going to be okay,” the doctor said as he coasted to a stop in front of the men. “She’s going to have a lot of bruising and soreness, but the bullet didn’t penetrate the vest. We’re sending her to X-ray to check for fractures. She’s very, very, lucky. We’re going admit her, give her something to help with the pain, and keep her overnight, just in case, but she should be able to go home in the morning.”
Crank and the three officers waiting all nodded as they sighed in relief. It had nearly gotten ugly at her apartment complex, with Crank insisting on riding with Lana in the ambulance, and the uniforms just as adamant he wasn’t going anywhere until they had their questions answered. Lana put an end to the argument by asking for him to ride with her.
While the doctors checked Lana out, Crank had answered officer’s questions, and the tension between them had eased.
“Sam?” Officer Ryder said as an elderly man hurried toward the officers. “The doctor just came out. She’s fine.”
“I have to see her!”
“They’re not letting anyone see her at the moment, but she’s okay. The doctor said the bullet didn’t penetrate the vest,” Ryder explained.
The man sagged in relief.
“Sam, this is Charles Lee. He was the one that pulled her to safety and called for help. Charles, Sam Winters, Lana’s father,” Officer Grendle said, making introductions.
“You’re Charles?” Sam asked, taking Crank’s hand and holding it firm. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did. Lana’s told me a little about you—how you’re helping her with some self-defense training.” He released Crank’s hand. “It seems like you’re her knight in shining armor.”
Crank smiled as his face heated up. “I don’t know that I would go that far.”
Sam put his arm around Crank’s shoulder and steered him away from the officers. “You’re part of the Fallen Legion?” he asked, the patch on the back of Crank’s jacket making the question rhetorical.
“Yeah.”
Sam nodded. “Knowing your reputation, do I have anything to worry about with my daughter?”
Crank looked at Sam for a moment. Sam was probably pushing seventy, his short cut hair thinning and gray. He’d probably been a big man once but had gone soft with age. His pale yellow shirt, though neatly pressed, was hanging loose on him in places, tight in others, but Crank could sense that his mind was as sharp as ever, his eyes quick and alert behind his glasses.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“No, of course you don’t. I was a detective for Amberton PD for over twenty years, a patrolman fifteen years before that. I never had the opportunity to cross paths with the Legion. I want to keep it that way.”
Crank pursed his lips, reminding himself that this man was the father of the woman he was fucking. If it were his daughter, he’d be just as protective. “I think we understand each other, Mr. Winters. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
Sam nodded. “What you did today goes a long way in convincing me that the rumors about your club may not be entirely true. Don’t make me regret my decision.”
“You won’t.”
“Tell me what happened. Does this have anything to do with the other shootings?”
“Yes, everything, I think. I asked Lana to check out a name for me. I was meeting her to find out what she found out. I saw her go down and then heard the shot. I ran over and dragged her behind her car to keep her safe.”
Sam nodded. Crank made it sound simple, but running across open ground with a sniper firing on you takes balls. Big ones—made of brass.
“She was shot because she was checking out a name?”
“No, I don’t think so. How would he know, and killing her after she’d given the name to the detective accomplishes nothing.”
“Was the shooter targeting you?”
“I don’t think so. We were at least a hundred feet apart.”
“Then why Lana?”
Crank hesitated, unsure of how much he should say. “I think because of me.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Before I thought the Legion was being targeted. Now, I don’t think so. It’s not the Legion the shooter is targeting, it’s me.”
“You?”
“Yeah. I think he’s trying to hurt me.”
“Why?”
Crank shook his head. “I don’t know,” he lied.
“Then why do you think he’s targeting you?”
“Because Lana has nothing to do with the Legion. The only connection between all the killings is me. I thought Motor… Morgan Blasick… was killed because he was ex-Legion, even though I couldn’t figure out why. Now it makes more sense. He was killed because he was important to me.”
Sam looked at him. “Are you sleeping with her?”
Crank looked at his feet for a moment before he met Sam’s gaze again. The old man was sharp; he’d give him that. “Yes.”
Sam stared at him. “You have to break it off. She can’t be involved in your world and still be a cop.”
“No. I’m not breaking it off unless she wants to. She has nothing to do with the Legion, and the Legion has nothing to do with her.”
“Yet, she’s here after being shot.”
“Which has nothing to do with me being a member of the Fallen Legion. Even if I weren’t a brother, she would have still been shot because this has nothing to do with them.”
Sam held Crank’s stare. “You’re putting her in danger.”
“No. I’ve put her in danger. I didn’t know this was going to happen. But now that he’s targeted her, he will probably keep coming at her until she’s dead. I think it’s safe to assume he knows he didn’t kill her.”
“We can protect her.”
“We who, Sam? The cops? How? Unless you put her in a windowless building for the rest of her life, until this guy is caught, no one he targets is safe. This is what he did in the army, and he was very, very, good at his job.”
“What’s your alternative?”
Crank couldn’t hold Sam’s gaze anymore. “I don’t have one at the moment, but I have a better chance of protecting her than the cops.”
“How?”
“Because I know how this guy thinks and I know how he will want to set up for a kill. That means I’ll know a killing field if I see one and we can avoid it. Can you say the same about anyone on the force?”
“They can put multiple officers on her and—”
“You’re not listening,” Crank snapped, cutting him off. “You’re just like all the other cops I’ve talked to. I’ve told them this guy is like a ghost and the shots were coming from hundreds of yards away, but all of you seem to think this guy is just some gangbanger. I’m telling you, he’s not. He’s the fucking angel of death, and if the cops don’t start pulling their collective heads out of their asses and stop trying to treat him like a common thug, all you’re going to end up with is a bunch of dead cops. Lana included. Do you hear what I’m telling you?”
Sam stared at Crank. “How do you know all this?”
“Because I was a spotter for this guy and I know what he’s capable of. You don’t believe me? You were a detective, right? Go check out her apartment complex yourself. Find the place where he took his shot. If you find it, it will be so fucking far away you will dismiss it as impossible, but it won’t be. Lana was lucky this time. She might not be the next time.”
Sam paused, his eyes far away as he stared into space, then he focused on Crank again. “What do you suggest?”
“She’s safe for the moment. He won’t try anything while she’s in the hospital. Getting in close isn’t his style. Too much chance of being seen. These guys live and die on cover and stealth.”
“And after she gets out?”
“I don’t know. Not yet. Now that I know what I’m up against, I can better plan. I’ve lost too many friends to this fucker already, I’m not going to lose her too.”
“We could put her in protective custody at the station.”
Crank smirked. “Have you met your daughter?”
Sam spluttered out a laugh. “I see you know her.”
“Yeah. She needs to be off the streets until this guy is caught. But after that? I don’t know.”
Sam rubbed his face with one hand. “You seem like an upstanding guy. Do what you can to protect her. I’ll call in some favors to get you some help. I still have some pull at the station.”
Crank nodded. “I dragged her into this mess, I’m going to get her out of it.” He paused as he thought. “Do the cops have some kind of windowless van we can move her in? He knows where she is. He could be waiting tomorrow when she’s released and pick her off right outside the hospital, or through a car window. We have to keep her out of sight until we can button her up.”
Sam nodded. “I’m sure I can scrape up something.”
Crank offered his hand. “I’ll keep her safe, Mr. Winters, or die trying.”
Sam took the open palm. “That’s all anyone can ask.”
***
“How’re you feeling?” Sam asked as Lana’s eyes fluttered opened.
“Hey, Dad. Drugged,” she murmured.
Her eyes flicked around the room until she located Crank. She smiled and reached for him. He stepped to her side, took her hand, and held it.
“The doc said nothing was broken,” Crank said softly. “They’re going to keep you overnight then release you in the morning.”
“Good,” she replied, her voice thick and slow. “Doesn’t hurt at the moment.”
“That’s because they have you on the good stuff,” Crank said and gave her hand a squeeze.
Lana looked back to her father. “Some officer I am, huh? You worked forty years as a cop without a scratch. I’m on the job one day and I’m in the hospital.”
Sam chuckled and rubbed her arm. “Don’t worry about it.”
She looked to Crank and then back to her father. “He saved me.”
“I know.”
“It’s Silas,” Crank said.
She nodded as she blinked slowly. “How do you know?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. Everyone thought the Legion was the target, but it’s not. I’m the target. He’s trying to hurt me. He is hurting me, by hurting those I care about.”
Lana stared at Crank for a moment, but let the comment slide. Following up on what he’d said was for later—when her father wasn’t around. She nodded.
“Now that we know who he is, we’ll get him.” She smiled and blinked at him lazily. “I have a few things I want to say to him.”
Crank nodded in agreement, though he didn’t believe it.
Her meal arrived, and she recounted her adventure to her father as she ate. Crank smiled but said nothing as Lana, intentionally or not, built him up to an almost super-human level of bravery.
They chatted for another hour or so; Crank listening more than talking, as Lana and Sam discussed how the police could go about catching Silas Conrad.
“Lana, I need to go. Charles, nice to finally meet you,” Sam said as he rose, offering his hand again.
“Nice to meet you, Sam,” Crank replied, shaking his hand.
“Take care of yourself,” Sam as he moved to his daughter’s bed and kissed her softly on the forehead. He gave her a gentle pat on the arm again and smiled down at her. “I like him,” he whispered as Crank stared out of the window to give them a little privacy. “Just be careful.”
She smiled back at him. “I will,” she whispered in return.
After Sam had left the room, Crank stepped to her bed and brushed her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry you’ve gotten involved in this,” he said softly. “I should have guessed before.”
“How would you have known?” Lana asked, grimacing as she pushed herself higher up in the bed.
He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “I’m going to find him, Lana. I’m to going find Silas, and I’m going to make him pay for what he’s done. I owe it to Motor, Stilts, Pecan and Wheels. I owe it to you.”
She felt a warmth flow through her, but she couldn’t condone vigilante justice. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Let us handle it.”
“If the cops come at him, he’ll fade away into the night. You’ll never catch him. And even if you do, then what? Can you arrest him just because I think it’s him?”
“No, of course not.”
“So even if you find him, what are you going to do?”
“The same thing the police have always done. We’ll gather evidence, build a case against him, and then put him away.” Crank nodded, but she could tell he didn’t believe her.
“That’s not going to work for him. How are you going to prove it’s him if nobody has seen him? Even if you find him, how will you arrest him? He’s killed four people already. Do you have even one shred of evidence? Anything at all?”
“No,” she finally admitted.
“No,” he repeated. “So you can’t arrest him, or if you do, you’ll have to release him, and he’ll be back on the street. At the very least, you’ll tip your hand that you suspect he’s the shooter and that will make him even more careful. And you might be safe, for a while, but so long as Silas is free, you’re in danger. You’ve experience firsthand what he’s capable of. What’s preventing him from trying again?”
“Nothing, I suppose, but I can’t do my job if I’m going to be afraid of my own shadow.”
“Lana! Silas Conrad has no respect for life. It doesn’t matter to him if you’re a cop. I saw him shoot a woman carrying a baby in her arms. He said he thought it was a bomb.” He shook his head. “He’ll never stop. He missed you once. I can’t see him letting that go. He’ll come after you again. I guarantee it.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Tell us what the cops know and let us handle it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “The Legion? And then what? You’ll kill him?” Crank said nothing. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Better him than you.”
“I can’t believe you just said that. The stories are true, aren’t they? You’re nothing but hired thugs and killers.”
Crank leaned in close. “You listen to me, and you listen good,” he said, his voice cold and hard. “There are bad people out there, people who think the rules don’t apply to them. Silas is one of those people. He has no conscious, no remorse. He’ll laugh in your face if you try to handle him the same way as some accountant who killed his wife’s lover in a fit of rage. He’s an assassin, Lana. He’d rather kill you than talk to you.”
“That doesn’t mean you can just go out and kill him!”
Crank stood up and glared at her. “Would you rather he kill you? Because he will, Lana. Eventually, he will… unless he’s stopped first.”
“No. But if I condone what you’re talking about, I’m no better than he is.”
“Would you shoot a man in cold blood?”
“Of course not!”
“But you would shoot a man to prevent him from shooting someone else. Because that’s what we’re talking about.”
“There’s one problem with your argument. You don’t know the killer is Silas Conrad.”
Crank pursed his lips. “I know,” he said softly. “If he’s here, it’s him.”
“You don’t know that! You have no proof!”
“I’m not going to let him hurt you again, Lana.”
“I’ll arrest you myself, Crank. Don’t do this.”
He looked at her then smiled. “Okay. I had to try,” he said.
She watched his face and saw the lie in his words. “I’m tired,” she said, wanting to end the conversation. He had been so charming, laid-back, and fun, she hadn’t believed the rumors… until now.
He nodded. “Get some rest. You’re safe for now.”
She held his gaze as he looked at her, his face a mixture of sorrow and anger. After a moment, he seemed to make up his mind. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said with a curt nod before he stepped out of the room.
She watched him leave then closed her eyes, a single tear crawling down her cheek. She sniffed and wiped the tear away. She was in pain, but no amount of medication could take away the ache she felt in her chest.