Part Five of the Suspenseful Five-Part E-Serial Novel! Fasten Your Seatbelts In the explosive conclusion of John Gilstrap's five-part novel, the high-speed pursuit of two fugitive lovers kicks into overdrive--on the ultimate collison course with destiny . . . After plotting their escape, evading the police, and witnessing a murder, Nicki and Brad have reached the end of the line--and there's nowhere left to hide . . . Holed up in a house in a North Carolina fishing village, they've run out of time, run out of luck, and run out of options. All they've got are a couple of hostages . . . Two innocent people--a feisty senior and her grandson--are the bargaining chips Alex needs to buy more time. But Nicki can't wait any longer. Her life is in jeopardy, and her father is desperate enough to do anything to save her. Deputy Sheriff Darla Sweet is finding evidence that could change everything for the young lovers. But when every second counts, the only real justice comes in a hail of bullets. . . "Gilstrap is a master of action and drama."--Gayle Lynds "When you pick up a Gilstrap novel, one thing is always true--you are going to be entertained at a high rate of speed."-- Suspense Magazine "One of the best thriller writers."-- Genre Go Round Includes a preview chapter from John Gilstrap's next thriller, Friendly Fire
Release date:
May 10, 2016
Publisher:
Lyrical Press
Print pages:
77
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Carter stared at the phone after he hung up. If he was wrong about Nicki, or if she was wrong about Brad, he’d just made himself an accessory to murder. Worse, he’d just granted tacit approval for his daughter to remain in the company of a convicted killer.
What the hell was he thinking?
It occurred to him as he sat in his car contemplating his own stupidity that he’d inadvertently started a clock for everyone involved. He needed to find this kid in the red shirt, and he’d end up doing it alone. Nicki was dead-on about the mind-set of cops. They already knew who their suspects were, and whatever Carter told them would be discounted as the frantic rantings of a worried father.
He jumped a foot as the front passenger door opened. Before he could say a word, the female deputy he’d seen inside the Quik Mart slid into the seat next to him and closed the door. She smelled of wet hair. “Couple days of this and we’ll have to build an ark,” she said. When she saw the look of confusion in Carter’s face, she extended her hand. “Darla Sweet. We met inside.”
A little stunned, he took her hand. “I remember,” he said. “Can I help you?”
“I was watching you through the window,” she said, nodding to the front of the store. “That was a long chat. You looked pretty animated. I presume you were talking to your daughter?”
Carter tried his best to look unfazed, but he didn’t think he pulled it off. “If I were, it would be none of your business,” he said. “Attorney-client privilege.”
“That’s a good one,” Darla said. “I was thinking misprision of a felony.”
Carter felt trapped. He didn’t know what to say, and his silence told the deputy that she was correct.
Darla let him off the hook. “If you did speak to her, I hope that you had the good sense to advise her to turn herself in.”
“It wouldn’t be that simple,” he said. “She’s innocent.”
“Evidence to the contrary notwithstanding.”
Carter looked past the deputy and saw through the front windows of the Quik Mart that the crime scene technicians were still bustling. “You’re not searching for exculpatory evidence,” he said. “I wouldn’t expect you to find it.”
She didn’t bite. “Evidence is evidence. Prosecution and defense have equal access.”
Carter allowed himself a bitter chuckle. “I am a prosecutor, Deputy. I know better. The good news is, I can take your case apart in court.”
“All the more reason for you to tell her to come on in,” Darla observed.
“You mean if I speak to her?”
“Of course. Let her stand trial and humiliate us all.”
Carter had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts about people, and he liked something about Deputy Sweet. She had the look of an idealist. On a different day, he’d have called it naïveté, but not on a day when he needed her help. “Suppose I did talk to her,” he said. “Hypothetically, of course, and suppose she told me that she and her friend only witnessed the killing, and tried to help the victim after he was shot? Suppose all those fingerprints were as a result of that?”
“Then I think that she’d need to step up and say so.”
Carter wondered how much he should share with her. “Like I said, it’s not that simple. Not for Nicki. I don’t give a shit about the guy she’s with. If I had spoken with her, I think she would have said that the robbery was committed by someone else, a man wearing a red jersey of some sort. A sports jersey. I think she might tell you that Brad Ward—”
“Dougherty.”
“Whatever. I’m guessing that she might tell you that he actually tried to stop the robbery, but couldn’t before shots were fired. She might tell you that given Brad’s record, and her desire to stay on the run, they’d panicked and left the scene only after they’d seen that the victim was already dead.”
“That would be after they’d disarmed Ben Maestri.”
“Who approached them with a gun and threatened to shoot.”
Darla said, “We keep coming back to the strong argument in favor of them turning themselves in and letting the justice system grind its gears. It is a pretty good system, you know.”
“Not for my daughter, it’s not. In the amount of time it would take for the case to come to trial, she’d already be dead. That’s not how I want her to spend her last months.”
Darla looked confused. “Mr. Janssen, prison is not an easy place, but it is certainly survivable.”
“It’s not the prison,” Carter said. “She’s sick.” He explained the nature of the disease. “I need to find the exculpatory evidence before you arrest her. I need to find the real bad guy. And you need to keep your crime scene open and operating until I do.”
Darla seemed moved by Carter’s predicament. “Don’t you understand how dangerous it is out there for her if she doesn’t turn herself in? The whole state of North Carolina is on the lookout for a pair of murderers. That’s a lot of guns.”
“Of course I know that.” Christ, how could she think that he didn’t know that? “That means my clock is ticking. My question to you is, are you going to help, or am I going to go this alone?”
Darla recoiled. “We’ve done our investigation. I don’t see how—”
“I don’t see how it could hurt to take a look at the other side of the equation,” he interrupted. “Assume for the sake of argument that I’m right. You can prevent a terrible miscarriage of justice. If I’m wrong, you might actually strengthen your case. It’s a win-win.”
Darla smiled as if he’d just told a joke. “I’ll run it by the sheriff and see what he thinks.”
It wasn’t what Carter want. . .
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