“Sam Winters? Father of Lana Winters?” Crank asked. He’d looked up all the Sam Winters that lived in Amberton and started calling. The first number hadn’t answered, so he had a one in three chance of this being Lana’s father.
“Who’s this?” Sam asked.
“This is Charles Lee. I’m looking for the father of Lana Winters.”
“Charles Lee? The man I met in the hospital?”
Crank sighed. “Sam, I’m trying to reach Lana, but she’s not answering her phone.”
“When did you try last? I spoke to her last night, after the school shooting.”
“This morning. I tried last night too.” He paused. “She’s… not talking to me at the moment.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s not important. What is important is I need to reach her. That shooting yesterday at the school? That was Conrad. It had to be. The man who was killed protecting his little girl—that was Goose. Goose was a good friend of mine, and he was just picking up his daughter after school.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. The point is, Lana isn’t safe. All the Legion old ladies and kids are clearing out of town. Lana should do the same.”
“And what about you? Is the Legion going to leave Amberton? If you left, maybe Conrad would too.”
“Maybe, but go where? We know the ground here. We have contacts we can use. We’re trying to track him down and put a stop to this. But until we do, anyone connected with me isn’t safe. That includes Lana.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I think she will be safer here, under police protection, don’t you?”
“We talked about this. I promised I would try to keep her safe, but so long as Conrad is free, she’s a target. You’ve just seen what this asshole will do, what he’s capable of. And now, she won’t talk to me. I can’t help her if she won’t let me.”
“As you’ve noticed, my youngest has a mind of her own. If she wanted to talk to you, she would.”
“All I’m asking is you take her somewhere for a few days, or at the very least, keep her in her apartment, or your house, or something, until Conrad is caught. Every time she’s out in the open she’s at risk. Surrounding her with cops will only get another officer killed. Listen to me, Sam. He killed two of my friends in less time than it took for us to react to the first one being shot. If Conrad doesn’t have a clear shot, he will simply shoot the officer blocking his view, then shoot Lana.”
Sam paused. “Have you been watching her? Is that how you know she’s been going to work? How they are protecting her?”
“I’ve been…” Crank began then his voice trailed off. “Yes. Just because she won’t talk to me doesn’t mean I can stand by and let her be killed.”
Crank waited, gripping the phone tighter, hoping he’d finally reached Sam and convinced him of the danger Lana was in. He didn’t understand why keeping her safe was so important to him, but it was.
“I’ll talk to her,” her father finally said. “I’m going to call a few buddies on the force and find out what they know. I’ll get back to you.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Give me a couple of hours.”
“You can reach me at this number anytime.”
“Okay. I’ll call you back.”
After Sam was gone, Crank heaved a sigh of relief. He’d thought about going to Lana’s apartment last night and trying to reason with her, but had changed his mind. Standing in front of her door, trying to convince her to open it, felt like a good way to end up dead.
Conrad hadn’t wanted to kill him, or he would have already. He’d had plenty of opportunities, but he didn’t know when that might change. There was little doubt that the end game was Conrad killing him, or trying to, but he wanted to delay that final confrontation for as long as possible. His brothers had his back, and the cops were working to find him as well, but he felt in his gut he was the only person that could bring Silas down, and to do that, he had to stay alive.
The Legion had gone to ground. They were avoiding their normal patterns and brothers were getting their families secured out of town before returning. Having Emily, Goose’s eleven-year-old daughter, almost gunned down had shocked them. The Legion might be a lot of things, but child killers they weren’t. Every brother swore a blood oath that Silas Conrad would pay dearly for trying to kill a kid.
Crank had brought in some pictures from his unit and showed everyone the man they were looking for.
In the photos, Conrad was a squat, bulldog of a man, with large arms and chest. There wasn’t a lot to go on because in the photos he was always wearing his trademark wraparound sunglasses and round, wide brimmed, boonie hat. If they spotted him, he was dead. No alibis, no excuses. Their brothers would be avenged in blood, and if that mean a stint in prison for murder, so be it.
Crank picked up the remote and turned on his television for the noon news. Last night the reporters had finally made the connection that the murders were somehow connected to the Legion. As expected, the lead story was the shooting at the school, and as the broadcast started, Gang War? was displayed in lurid red letters over the new reader’s shoulder.
Crank watched, grinding his teeth, as a reporter stood in front of the school summarizing the events from yesterday, before cutting to scenes from yesterday’s attack while the reporter performed a voice-over, suggesting the shooting was all the Fallen Legion’s fault and that the club was involved in a turf war.
The story dominated the news as the station picked the event apart. As he watched, he could feel a cold lump forming in his stomach. They had peacefully coexisted with Amberton for years, performed a valuable service, and even helped those that couldn’t get help any other way. Now, however, people were seeing them in an entirely different light, with several citizen interviews calling for mass arrests of the entire club.
The sole bright spot was the police chief stating that they were investigating, but the shootings didn’t appear to be the result of gang-related activity. But that piece ran last and was short. Facts didn’t play as well as outrage. It was too little, too late, and the damage had already been done.
When the newscast finally moved on to something else, Crank turned the television off in disgust. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe they should leave Amberton to the wolves, but even as the thought entered his mind, he cast it aside. Amberton was his home, and he would be damned if someone like Silas fucking Conrad was going to come into town and drive them out.
No. The Legion would stand and fight. The Legion were tearing Amberton apart right now, and if they didn’t find Silas here, they would begin to move farther out. Silas was good. He was damned good, but the Legion was a well-oiled machine. Now that they knew who they were looking for, they would eventually find him, they would kill him, and they would make sure his body was found as a warning to anyone else that thought preying on the Legion, and by extension, the people of Amberton, was a good idea.
They may not wear uniforms and drive around in cars with emergency lights, but the Legion was just as dedicated, in their own way, to protecting Amberton as the cops were. It was an oath that Motor had put into place when he founded the Fallen Legion, and it was an oath they took seriously.
The Legion had never been tested like this before, but they would rise to the challenge. They wouldn’t stop searching for Conrad until the last of them were dead.
***
Crank was sitting in his truck across from the police station. He’d made a sweep of the area, looking for anything that looked out of place, anything that looked odd but had found nothing. Lana should be appearing in about an hour, and he would make another sweep of the places where Silas would likely set up for a shot just before she appeared.
He’d watched the cops perform the same task, but in his opinion, they were in too close. They still didn’t appreciate the threat Conrad posed and what he was capable of, but at least they could check rooftops, buildings, and other places that he didn’t have ready access to. Crank didn’t think Silas would set up any place he couldn’t go himself, as there was too much risk of being seen, but he still felt better that the cops were checking.
Maybe, working together, they could keep Lana safe.
He’d spent the day analyzing why he cared so much about Lana. As much as he loathed admitting it, she was important to him. Her presence, somehow, calmed him, and lifted him, at the same time. It was as if she had all the qualities of Motor—her willingness to listen, her desire to help, and her ability to help him see his way—while at the same time she excited him in ways Motor never could.
He frowned. Well, she used to do all that… before he fucked it up. He should have never said anything to her, but for some stupid reason, he’d felt the need to try to make her feel safe. She wasn’t some waif that needed protecting from the harsh realities of life, but everyone needed someone to watch their back now and again, and he wanted her to know he had hers.
If he were to admit it to himself, he felt he and Lana were on their way to having something, then that goddamn Silas showed up and fucked it all up. That was another thing he was going to make sure Silas knew before he gutted him like fish.
Crank was still stewing, examining his feelings for Lana and trying to figure out where to go from here, when his phone rang.
“Charles? This is Sam Winters. Have you got a minute?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
“I need you to be one-hundred percent honest with me. Can you protect Lana?”
Crank thought about his answer. “I don’t know. All I can do is try. Short of locking her inside a building, I think I have a better chance than just about anyone else.”
Now it was Sam that paused. “They call you Crank, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Crank, I put out some feelers at the department… and I think you’re right. They’re all good men and women, dedicated to their jobs, but they don’t have anything. They’d never admit this publicly, but they’re in over their head. They’re trying, but nobody has any experience dealing with this. They don’t know what they’re looking for and they don’t have anything to go on. The only thing they’ve got is the name, and you gave that to them, right?”
“Yes.”
“How sure are you it’s him?”
“I’m not sure, but he’s all I’ve got to go on. If he’s here, then I’ll be sure.”
“Would you consider consulting with the police to help catch this guy?”
Crank thought about Sam’s request. “Yes, but what about Lana? She’s my primary concern. So far Conrad has only targeted people close to me.”
“Helping the police catch his guy is helping protect her.”
“It’s not enough. I want to get her out of town.”
“Crank, I don’t know what happened after I left the hospital, but she doesn’t want to see you right now.”
“You’ve talked to her?”
“Yes, after I found out the department is struggling.”
“Then you get her out of town.”
“She doesn’t want to go.”
Crank closed his eyes. He liked her fire and kick ass, “take no prisoners attitude,” but now wasn’t the time. “Then you need to convince her. Get her out of town, and I’ll stay and help the police as much as I can.”
“Can you come to my house tonight, say about four? I’ll get Lana there, and we’ll try to work out something everyone can live with.”
Crank was quiet for a moment. “I’ll be there.”
“Good. I’m trusting you, Crank. I know what your club does. Show me you’re more than just hired thugs.”
Crank nodded even though Sam couldn’t see him. “We’re on the same side on this, Sam. You can trust me.”
“I’ll see you at four,” Sam said and gave him his address, then hung up.
Crank looked at his phone then tossed it aside and started his truck. He didn’t like being trapped in a cage, but it was too dangerous to be riding. He put the truck in gear and pulled out of his parking spot, going to the first location he wanted to check.
***
Silas sat in his Honda, watching through a spotting scope as the two officers escorted the Winters chick to a patrol car. The police were swarming around like ants. He’d watched them as they scurried about and he smiled to himself. They were always at least two steps behind him. Part of being a good sniper was striking when, and where, you were least expected. It was part of the terror campaign that made snipers so effective.
They expected him to hit at her apartment, the hospital or the police station. He’d toyed with the idea of doing just that, just to show he could, but then decided that being predictable wasn’t in his best interest. He was watching, to keep track of her movements, but his was just another car in a parking lot full of cars.
He’d hurt Crank. He’d killed five of his friends, and a little girl. That had to be eating him alive, knowing that he was the cause of her death. He’d seen the news and the town was now against him, with everyone calling for his gang’s arrest on principle. That was a bonus.
The only thing that wasn’t going perfectly was the Winters woman who didn’t have the decency to die after he’d shot her. He’d hit her, but as soon as she went down, he’d known it wasn’t a kill. The 30.06 just didn’t have the range to reach out and touch someone like his sniper rifle did, and he hadn’t allowed enough drop. It would have still been a kill had she not been wearing armor, but she was.
Having Lee come out of nowhere to drag her to safety… that had been a surprise. How he’d missed Lee arriving he didn’t know, but that had convinced him he had to get out of there. With Lee there, there was a very real risk that he, or the police, would discover his hide. He’d decided the risk of staying was greater than the risk of fleeing, so he had slowly crept along the edge of the hedges until he had reached the point with the most cover, then had risen, tucked his rifle under his long coat along with his net, and calmly strolled away. That was why he’d waited until the weather had turned cold to exact his revenge. Bulky clothing and long coats gave him plenty of options to conceal the tools of his trade.
Silas stayed well back from the cruiser giving Winters the ride home. He knew where they were going; he only had to keep them in sight to confirm. But then they didn’t turn where he expected. Surprised, he worked his way closer so he wouldn’t lose them. He didn’t like following so close with the police on alert, but he had to keep them in sight. He’d replaced the Texas plates on his car with one he’d removed from another white Honda Accord as he worked his way across South Carolina. He’d stolen two plates and was keeping an eye open for another Accord like his own so he could pick up another one, but he was still in danger of being spotted.
He had to assume they knew what he looked like, so he’d grown his beard out and dyed his hair, but being in so close still made him nervous. Still, this was a break in routine, and that often made for an opportunity.
He followed the cruiser, staying as far back as he could, dropping farther and farther back as the traffic thinned until he’d seen the patrol car pull into a drive. He’d turned at the next intersection, and then driven around the block to appear at the intersection on the other side. He had the house, now he had to figure out if he could set up, and where. He may have to try to do what he’d done with Morgan… get in close and shoot from his car.
This was a scramble, but he wanted that Winters chick. He wanted to give her the Finger. He smiled, remembering how his company had started using the term for a kill, playing on his nickname. She’d gotten lucky once. She wasn’t likely to have that much luck a second time.