Read Online St. Albans Fire by Archer Mayor - Free Book Online Page B

between him and his target, as if he were planning an attack on an enemy pillbox. In fact, his approach would be simplicity itself: His only real choice was to emerge from the shadows and cross the lot as quickly as possible, blue strobes flashing, hoping against reason that his prey would stay put.
    He sighed slightly, as if in recognition of reality not quite matching fantasy. In truth, the people he busted were mostly teenagers or assorted losers that he’d dealt with from virtually his first day on duty. Barring the few exceptions who appeared periodically from out of town—usually from nearby Canada—they were as familiar as the horses on a carousel and just as prone to coming around with monotonous regularity, circling out of sight into jail before returning for each repeat performance.
    There were an elite few, however, who fit the truly rare category of the bad news local who had never been arrested—so far. They were a source of special irritation to Leon Ledoux, and he had one of them right now, literally in his sights: Rick Frantz.
    He unhooked his radio mike and keyed the transmit button to update dispatch. Not in detail, of course—he didn’t want company messing up a drug bust. He merely mentioned he was investigating some suspicious activity.
    After that, he studied the scene before him one last time—memorizing the players—before gunning his engine, hitting his lights, and peeling out of hiding like the avenging angel he felt himself to be. Partway across the parking lot, he switched on his public address loudspeaker and barked out, “This is the police. You are under arrest. Do not move.”
    Of the five people he’d cataloged, three froze and two bolted. Frantz took off on foot, while the driver of the car hit the gas so hard, his back end began fishtailing on the slippery snow.
    Ledoux had eyes only for Frantz, as the latter ran the length of the abandoned department store and headed for a dark alleyway between it and its neighbor.
    This undivided attention, however, carried a cost. In exchange for only tracking Frantz, Leon took his eyes off the other car, whose rear wheels now suddenly found purchase on the asphalt under the snow and launched the vehicle straight at the cruiser.
    Ledoux watched in horror as the young driver, caught like a ghost in the cop’s headlights, abandoned his steering wheel and covered his face with his hands. Ledoux swerved, lost control, and met the other car in a perfect T-bone configuration.
    Shouting a string of curses, ignoring the pain in his neck, he leaped from his vehicle and ran to the other driver’s open side window.
    “You son of a bitch,” Ledoux yelled, ignoring the blood that was pouring from the driver’s nose and lip. “You’re under arrest. Put your hands on the wheel. One above and one through the middle. Now.”
    Dumbly, the boy complied. Ledoux slapped his cuffs on his wrists, locking him to the steering wheel. He then reached past him and pulled the key from the ignition.
    “Where is Frantz headed?” he demanded, peering into the gloom.
    But the boy was now crying.
    The deputy stepped back, quickly surveying the damage to his own vehicle. “God
damn
it,” he swore, and kicked the door before him, making the driver jump in surprise.
    Ledoux pulled his radio from his belt. “Dispatch, this is oh-eight. I’ve been in a ten-fifty at the mall. Am in pursuit of a subject heading behind the Ames store along the north wall. Need assistance.”
    Paying no attention to the dispatcher calmly repeating his message, Leon replaced the radio and began running. Coming abreast of the three young men still standing rooted in place, he only slowed enough to yell at one of them, “I got all your names, Carl. You move one foot from where you are, and you are screwed for life. You got that?”
    All three merely nodded as he passed.
    Despite the extent of this turmoil, Rick Frantz had been gone for only a little over a minute.
    Ledoux arrived at the