Winsome

Chapter 1 ~ A Night to Remember

         Late evening rain pelted the glass windows of the restaurant as Winsome Fletcher taped a finger on her cheek.  Her glazed look and vacant eyes spoke of one finding themselves long without a reason to laugh.  She was finding herself in a hard spot, most of her money had been wrapped up in the market, that was before it was all gone.  Winsome had let her friend Sarah talk her into the mess and now because of it she barely had a dime to her name.  Of course no one could have guessed it looking at her, she was dressed in a long  light green dress.  Her red hair made it look almost like she was waiting for Christmas.  The dress was of excellent quality and she had taken at least an hour on her hair.  She looked like the daughter or wife of a wealthy business man.  Not a single red-head with nothing more than a ten dollar bill in her purse, a purse that naturally matched her dress.  Even as showy as she was Winsome was not overdressed for the restaurant she now sat in.  The only way she could afford the dinner was to accept the generosity of Jonathan Newman, the man who was currently half an hour late.  She kind of liked him, he never was her type, just a good friend that she liked hanging out with.  She was well aware that his feelings were far from mutual.  He had liked her for a long time, but Winsome had far to much dignity to marry him for his money, and without her encouraging the matter it had never come up.  Winsome pulled her phone from her purse looking at the time again.  He was now thirty five minutes late. 
         Jonathan Newman whipped his hands on his freshly ironed suit pants, he had been standing in the bathroom now for twenty minutes fixing his appearance and rehearsing the lines he had prepared in his head.  His blond hair was cut short on top and even shorter on the sides.  He was freshly shaven and he had a slim pair of eye-glasses, that had been wiped and re-wiped a half dozen times so far.  Jonathan had some nagging worries and thoughts from work, it had been a bad day, he shook his head of that mess, and reached into his jacket pocket,  pulling out the small black box he checked on the small diamond ring.  All in order, he finally decided that no more amount of time rehearsing was going to do him any good it was time to finally face his fears. Walking out of the bathroom Jonathan spotted Winsome sitting at a table by the windows, she was staring out the window, looking away from him.  Where she sat she looked breathtaking and a fresh lump appeared in his throat.  Gulping it down he walked up forcing a smile.
         “Good evening Winsome, I am glad that you could make it.”
         Winsome smiled and replied that she wouldn’t have missed it.  Jonathan was focusing so much on looking calm and on four words that would shape the rest of his life that he failed to notice the less that thrilled expression on Winsome’s face.  The night progressed and they talked lightly while they ate their dinner.  Jonathan was preoccupied the entire dinner.  Winsome took it in stride assuming that it was something with his work. 
         Jonathan postponed his question to long and Winsome was getting ready to leave.  Panicking for time he quickly thought up a backup plan.
         “Um…it’s a great night for a drive, want to come on one with me?”
Winsome again checked her phone for the time, “I kind of wanted to get home and get some rest tonight.”
         Jonathan felt fear and panic tugging at his gut, “Oh come on, when was the last time we got to go on a drive,  please?”
         “Just a short one.”
         Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief, this might even work out to his advantage.  Tonight was going to change his life forever, he just knew it.
         Ten minutes later the tab was settled and they were in his convertible driving up to a city overlook that Jonathan knew about, it was the perfect romantic spot to pop the question. 
         “Jon, what do you think I should do about that stupid bank thing?  I’m broke.”
Jonathan smiled to himself, “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.  Things have a way of working out.”
         Winsome sighed, then in an attempt to change her own mood jokingly added “Well if you don’t drive any faster I wont have to worry about it because ill be in a nursing home by the time we get anywhere.”
         Jonathan was not about to let a challenge like that go and he sped up to get a reaction out of Winsome.  Again as preoccupied as he was he failed to notice the car about fifty so feet behind him accelerate to match his speed. 
         When they got to the overlook the rain had stopped and Jonathon hit the switch to put the top down on his convertible.  They sat there looking out at the mass of lights that now lay in front of them that formed Oakgrove.  A city of about twenty thousand people.  In front of them they saw what looked like an army of fireflies, in ranks of thousands.  They sat in silence just enjoying the view.  Jonathan reached in his pocket for the small box and as he opened his mouth to break the silence a stick snapped.  Before Winsome could inquire as to its origin.  A man in black stepped out of the shadows about ten feet from Jonathans door.  Winsome saw he was wearing a mask and her mind raced for what to do.  She heard the man say something to Jonathan but she didn’t even pay attention she was thinking of what to do. Run? No she couldn’t outrun a man in the dark, especially in a dress.  Then she knew what she had to do.  Jonathan kept a gun in the glove box.  The guy was probably a common crook and would bolt when he saw a revolver pointed at his head.  She clicked the handle in front of her and the glove box clacked open.  The light popped on, revealing an empty glove box.  A voice not two feet beside her snapped her head up.  Another man in a mask stood beside her, in a deep voice he said, “Looking for something?”  The man pulled Jonathans revolver from behind his back.  Three shots shattered the cool night air. 

                                                 Chapter 2 ~ Mr. Gibbons

         Jack Gibbons lay sleeping on his couch, on the table in front of him was scattered papers with intricately drawn Celtic knots upon them, each in a different stage of completion.  Pens and pencils in multiple colors were strewn on top of them.  On the left side of the table sat a bowl with cherry seeds covering the bottom of it for at least an inch.  Jack’s work jeans and dirty t-shirt were flaking dirt off on his couch.  Arm across his face he slept undisturbed and unworried.  His phone gave a twitter and Jack rolled over.  Without opening his eyes he pawed around on the table in front of him trying to shut the infernal thing up.  Finally opening his eyes he reached and flipped it open rubbing and blinking his eyes to adjust to the bright screen that now bid him good morning.  Just the alarm, he laughed to himself, it was always just the alarm.  Jack didn’t even know why he had a phone, no one seemed to ever get a hold of him anyway.  Jack cracked his knuckles and his neck as he stood and meandered to the kitchen, scratching his three day old beard.  Once there he rummaged around looking for some scraps.  The scarcity of food in his small apartment kitchen was more to blame for his appearance than an immense attempt on his part to stay in shape.    By this brief and shaded view of Jack Gibbons, most would picture him as lazy and out of shape.  A man with no care or concern for others and even the type who would make a living from taking advantage of others.  These assumptions would be wrong.  Jack Gibbons was none of these things, not everyone is always at their best, thus it was this morning with Jack.  As for his dirty appearance he was a hard worker, who’s current job was the type that mothers tell their children they wont have to do if they pay attention in school.  It was hard work and Jack was up to the challenge.  As for the sleeping on the couch without at least changing his clothes Jack loved drawing, especially knots.  He had come home from work, grabbed a bowl of cherries, which no matter how poor he got was something he always had on hand.  And sat to draw.  Losing track of time and being exhausted after work led him to fall asleep on the couch, thus giving anyone who glimpsed in on him the next morning the assumption he was lazy.  As for the lack of food it was more on purpose than it was lack of planning.  Jack didn’t keep lots of food around, because if he had it he would eat it.  Thus still being out of food, but being heavier for it.  As for not caring about anyone only himself this was as far wrong as any other guesses that could be made about Jack.  Their could not be a more loyal friend found in book or myth.  The last sentence may have been a slight exaggeration, which was another thing Jack was given to at times.  But the fact remains that he was more loyal than most.  After closing the fridge without finding anything he decided that it was a great day to have a big lunch, and walked to his room, throwing his shirt in a hamper and pulling a clean one off a hanger he shrugged into it.  Then he started looking around the floor for his boots.  They were pesky things that never stayed where he left them long.  As he looked his phone twittered again.
         “I’m already up.”
         When the phone ignored this comment and kept ringing Jack grumbled and pulled it out of his pocket to silence it, but he saw not an alarm on the screen this time but the words restricted call.  Jack didn’t know anyone that would go threw the trouble of restricting their number, so he made no attempt to hide the inquisitive tone as he groggily said or rather asked, hello? 
         “Mister Gibbons?”
No one called him that, “Yeah?”
         “This is officer McElroy from the police department, I’m calling to request you come down to the station this morning.”
         “I got to go to work.”
          “Mister Gibbons this is important ill contact your boss and explain the situation, now would you please come to the station as soon as possible.”
         “So much for ‘requesting’ hu?”
         “Mister Gi…”
         “Ill be there, just stop calling me that.” Jack flipped the phone shut.  Looking at his phone he shrugged, “What? You think I was a little rude? Well its not that I don’t like Cops, its just…that I don’t really like them.”  Jack smiled to himself, then frowned. “I need to get girl, I’m talking to my phone about being indecisive.  At least its not talking back.”
         Well if he was going to the police station he was going to take a shower and get some better pants on.  He didn’t want to go down on an invitation and get arrested because he looks like a hoodlum.  Looking in the mirror, he decided that he needed a shave as well.  He quickly discarded the notion, he didn’t like the police that much anyway.

Chapter 3 ~ Going ‘Downtown’

         Half an hour later Jack pulled his pickup into the local police station.  The truck was only a couple years old, dark green and in nice shape, minus the mud that was splashed up on the sides and even a little on the hood.  Jack walked threw the door, still wearing work jeans, but clean work jeans.  His shirt was a back t-shirt with a red emblem of some sort of motocross racing team on the back.  Jack ran his hands threw his close cut brown hair.  Despite the fact that he hadn’t done anything wrong lately he still felt a little nerves being in a police station.  He wasn’t there long before officer McElroy came out to meet him.  McElroy took Jack up a flight of stairs to the second floor and then past desk after desk of men and women answering phones and otherwise being busy.  Jack spotted one man who didn’t seem to belong, an older scientist of types standing by a room that inside stood multiple cops and one man at a desk.  It didn’t surprise Jack much when that was the room that they ended up stopping at, the reason it failed to surprise him is because the man behind the desk was Bill Jameson.  An old college buddy.  Maybe not so old of a college friend they both were only out of college nine years.  Bill’s father was a cop and he had gotten Bill a job as soon as he was out of college.  After nine years Bill had climbed quickly and he had his own desk now and went by Jameson instead of Bill. Jack held out a hand to shake Jameson’s.  He took it, but not with the same smile that Jack wore. 
         “Jack we need to talk.”  Looking up Jameson nodded at the other police and they took their leave. 
         “What do you need?”
         “Cooperation mostly, I have been put in charge of a murder case up at the city lookout.  You know the spot?”
         “Yeah, you want me to be a scout or something?”
         “No, do you also remember a Winsome Fletcher?”
         “Bill, cut the crap what the heck is going on here?  Your treating me like I am a suspect in this murder of yours, instead of a friend.”
         “Its been a long time since college Jack, I have a serious job now and I am taking it seriously.”
         “Fine, yes of course I remember Winsome, we grew up together and you knew her to.”
         “That is part of the reason for my mood today.  Jack, Winsome killed a man.”
Jack froze, a thousand thoughts raced threw his head, they were wrong they didn’t know what they were talking about.  They were the police this was their job.  How could they have known.  Winsome?
         Jameson used the silence to continue, “Last night up at the city lookout she shot and killed a man by the name of Jonathan Newman.  She then fled the scene of the crime and was picked up by an officer about a mile down hill.  When he picked her up he was unaware of the murder and proceeded to question her as to why she was on the side of the road.  When she didn’t form any coherent answers he was going to bring her back to the station.  Then over the radio he heard a report of gun shots at the city lookout and the possibility of a murder with a female suspect.  Winsome heard the same report and attacked the officer before he was able to put her in custody.  She stole his car and radio and it was another hour till the officer was able to report the theft.”
         “How did you guys get the report of the murder so fast, it was in the middle of the night.”
         “We got a call from a older lady who told us she saw a lady shoot a guy at the city lookout.  She was very emotional and she hung up without giving us a name or number to get a hold of her at.” 
         “Cant you trace the call or something? The Lady has to be lying.”
         “This isn’t the movies Jack, we don’t have that capability.  Besides the witness isn’t all we have to go on.  We found the gun at the car after running a scan we have her prints on it.  The gun is registered to Jonathan Newman as well as we have a coworker of his admitting to us that he carried a revolver in his glove box of his car.”
         “But its Winsome.”
         “That’s not all Jack, she lost a lot of money in the market.  She was broke.  Mr. Newman was just short of being wealthy, and also in love with Winsome.  He had just that day added her as the soul beneficiary of all his accounts.”
         “She is smart enough to know that she couldn’t get away with that though.”
         “Jack, she might have.  All she has to do is leave the country and access the accounts from a foreign back and there wouldn’t be a thing we could do to stop her.”
         Jack sat in stunned silence.  All the pieces added up, but he couldn’t get  over the fact that it was Winsome. 
         “What do you want me for?”
         “We know that you two were close, if she’s in trouble most likely she will be coming to you for help.  We want you to bring her in, if you can’t, call me and we will come get her just keep tabs on her for us if she shows up.  I knew her too Jack, I promise you ill go easy on her and do my best to prove her innocent.”
         “Okay Bill, ill let you know if she shows up.”
         As Jack walked out of the small office McElroy took his place in the office.  Looking to Jameson, he spoke up, while watching Jack leave. “Is he going to cooperate?”
         “No, he is going to be Jack.” Jameson sighed, “I had hoped he had changed since college, and he is going to do what he always has, cause a world of trouble.”  Jameson slammed his hand on the desk.  “Follow him McElroy, if the girl shows up arrest her, if Jack argues arrest him to.”
         McElroy nodded and turned to leave.
         “McElroy, be careful, they are both one hell of a handful.”

Chapter 4 ~ Decisions

         Jack got in his truck still trying to sort out everything.  He had a feeling that he was going to need some breakfast after all.  Stopping in at a local diner he lacked his truck and walked up the couple steps to the red door, its paint long faded and cracked.  As the small bell chimed as he entered one of the waitresses, that had worked their for as long as Jack could remember waved a greeting.  Jack always wondered what her story was, she had to be a grandmother by know and she still worked at a diner that was barely staying above water.  After a $6.50 special he sat in his corner booth and drank his coffee.  As he sat thinking everything else seemed to fade away.  He sorted his thoughts, sorted the facts.  Tried to understand all he had heard.  Winsome was smart enough to know she wouldn’t get away with murder, especially not in this town.  He quickly shook his head getting the thought out of his head.  Winsome wouldn’t kill some one, period.  He had to start from that, and then figure out the rest.  She didn’t kill Jon, so who did?  If Winsome was the only one that benefited from Jonathans death… Again Jack shook his head.  She didn’t do it.  He looked down at his coffee, it was cold, gulping it down he threw his tip down and left.  Something told him today was going to get interesting, especially if he was right about where Winsome was by now. 
         As Jack drove toward his apartment he kept a close eye on his review mirror.  Something told him that Jameson didn’t trust him.  Maybe it was his training as a cop, maybe it was the fact that he knew both of them.  Winsome and Jack had been close friends growing up, they were always their for each other when one of them was in trouble.  More often than not they got the other into more trouble than they would have on their own.  Again Jack snapped out of his thoughts to find himself standing at the door of his apartment.  As he took out his key he noticed a scuff mark above his doorknob.           Unlocking the door he threw his keys and wallet on a small end table that he kept next to the door.  Surprisingly the lights were off, flipping the switch Jack walked into the kitchen, kicking his boots off under the sink, he would remember them there, he hoped.  Pouring a cup of water he called into the apartment, “Make yourself at home, I think I got some milk here, I would offer you cherries but I know you don’t like them.”
He heard a half hearted chuckle from his bed room, followed by Winsome, her hair a mess and wearing a new outfit entirely composed of all Jacks stuff.
         “Nice shirt, I think the jeans are a bit big for you though.”
         “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
         It slightly worried Jack that she wasn’t more of a mess emotionally, she seemed somewhat calm, for witnessing a murder, “Because I was at the police station and talked to Bill.”
         Winsome lost her composure and burst into tears, falling to her knees she sobbed, “I didn’t do it.”
         Jack rushed to her helping her off the floor she wrapped her arms around him like she would never let go.  He helped her to the sofa, and went to get her a drink of water.  She stifled her sobs and knuckled a tear away.  An uncontrollable sniff would still interrupt her words every now and then as she started her story.  She got threw the entire story without losing control.
         “Do you remember anything that the first man said?  Any idea for a motive?”
         Winsome shook her head, still sniffing and doing her best not to cry. “I didn’t hear.  Anything he said I was to worried about. What I was going to do to help.”
         “You hung out with Jonathan more than anyone else, can you think of anyone that would want him dead?”
         “No.  I cant think of anyone.  He only had a handful of people he knew, his boss and a couple other people from work, he talked about them a lot, but why would they want him dead?  Their were a couple of guys that he would go and hang out with on the weekends, and one or two college friends that he keeps in touch with, but for the most part he doesn’t socialize much so its not like he has a huge list of enemies.  Or any for that matter.”
         “Well, we got to get out of here, I am pretty sure that our good friend Bill Jameson doesn’t trust me anymore.” Then to himself he added, ‘maybe he’s right.’
looking down at his watch Jack saw the time to be 11:32am, time to go.  Flipping the lights off they left the apartment.  He was on the fifth story.  Looking down the stairs he saw no movement.
         Turning to Winsome he jammed his thumb over his shoulder toward the stairs.  “Wait for me on the sixth floor.  I am going to go and see If our old friend sent a tail, if so ill try to lose him and come back with the pickup so we have a set of wheels.” 
         Winsome grabbed his arm as he was turning to go, “Jack, this means a lot to me, thank you so much for your help.  I was afraid I would have to face this all alone.”
         “What are friends for?” Jack winked and started down the stairs.  His mind raced.  What was he going to do? In about five minutes he would pass the point of no return.  He had to chose his side.  What did he believe?  Did he even know what he believed?  Winsome’s story was pretty scattered, she should have been able to remember something that was said.  She should have had some more details.  Something to go on, she said no one wanted him dead.  That left her as the only one with a motive.  Ten stairs left and no idea what he was going to do.  Jameson had a good case.  Gun, motive, prints, attacked cop.  Jack put his hand on the door and paused a moment before pushing it open.  Outside he looked around for McElroy, he knew he had to be around somewhere watching him.  Jack focused on a car parked on the opposite side of the street a couple dozen feet away, a man was sitting in it reading the newspaper.  Jack laughed to himself and hoped that there were better cops that McElroy protecting the safety of Oakgrove.  Walking up to the car he knocked on the window,  McElroy seemed a bit perturbed as he threw his paper onto the seat next to him.
         “What do you want?”
         Jack took a second more delay, “Winsome’s upstairs.”

Chapter 5 ~ A puzzle piece

         McElroy and Jack climbed the stairs quickly, Jack in the lead, McElroy a couple steps behind him.  As they reached the door to Jack’s apartment McElroy drew his pistol and nodded for Jack to open the door.  As soon as the door was open McElroy was threw scanning the room with his gun when he cleared the living room he stepped into the bedroom, finding it empty as well he turned to Jack as he holstered his gun, “Is this some kind of joke?”
         “She’s gone?  She was just here five minutes ago!”
McElroy ran his hand threw his hair like he was accustomed to do.  Jack saw his chance and taking  McElroy by the shirt collar with his left hand he punched him in the face as hard as he could.  McElroy drank coffee and drove cars for a living, Jack worked with his hands.  The hit leveled the cop.  Jack leaned over cuffing McElroy with his own cuffs and took the cops gun and two extra clips.  Checking to see the gun was on safe he slipped it under his belt behind his back, before he left he grabbed a old flannel to cover up the pistol and stuffed a sock into McElroy’s Jaw.  Walking out he flipped the lights off and went up to the sixth floor to get Winsome. 
         “Miss me?”
         “What happened, where did you go?”
         “I guess I am in this till the end with you, unless I can explain to the cops why Officer McElroy is tied up in my living room with a broken nose.”
         A dazed look came over Winsome, “What have I got you into?”
         “I can think of a couple words to describe what the substance is that we are in, but the key word there is we.”
         “How can you be so giddy at a time like this?”
         “Someone has to be.”
         With that they headed back down to the street, and jumped in Jack’s pickup and they headed off for a destination that they didn’t know yet.  Being a smaller town Jack knew that they couldn’t drive around in his truck forever, in about three hours every cop in fifty miles would be looking for it.  Their were three ways out of town, and it was almost seventy miles to the nearest town, to far to walk.  Jack knew the roads were blocked off but he had to see it for himself, they were their best bet for getting out of this.  As he headed for main street, Winsome piped up, “Why are we running?”
         Jack had to think a minute before answering, he didn’t know what to say other than the truth, which could open up a hole can of trouble, “Its our best bet, I don’t know that you for sure didn’t kill Jon, there is a good deal of proof that you did, and precious few things to point that you didn’t.  I’m on your side because your one of my oldest friends, and you were always there for me.”
         “You think I killed him?” Winsome had such a voice of despair and emptiness in her question Jack almost rethought he position of in-decision.
         “I didn’t say that, I said I don’t know.  I’m trusting you, but every finger out there is pointing right at you Winsome, you got to know that.”  Winsome said nothing. “Why were your prints on the gun?”
         When she spoke she spoke in such a rush and with such hurt in her voice that Jack flinched, “Jon’s killer shot him then threw it in my lap, I picked it up and tried to shoot him, but it was out of ammo.  Then they disappeared and I ran after them, but they had a car and drove away, I went back to check on Jon and left the gun in the car.” 
         Jack thought about what she had said closely.  If the gun only had three shots in it, what happened to the others.  “If you didn’t kill him you were set up, and set up good.”
         Winsome stopped being hurt by Jack’s indecision. “IF I killed him? If I was set up?  You think I would kill the man that was about to propose to me? For what? Money!  I thought you knew me better than that!  That a human life would be worth however much he was?  Damn you Jack Gibbons!  If you cant trust me enough to believe me when I tell you that I didn’t  kill one of my friends for money, then let me out of the truck right now, I don’t want to ride another mile with you.  I never want to see your face again!”  Jack didn’t slow down, didn’t speak, didn’t take his eyes off the road.  Winsome closed her eyes in regret for what she had just said.  Jack had been their for her, he was risking his life for her.  He had just knocked out a cop, which if nothing else would lad him in prison.  He had taken in a woman being hunted for murder, and trusted her with his life.
         They both sat in silence for another mile, before they both apologized.  They drove on in silence.  Ten miles down the road Jack spotted the cop car parked sideways in the road slowly filtering traffic around.  They weren’t getting by that anytime soon.  Jack thought back to Winsome’s story he picked out one important detail.  The gun with three shots.  It was the key, but how to use it was the question.  Looking at his watch Jack saw that it had been about forty five minutes since he had left McElroy laying on the floor.  Their was a chance that he was still out.  That gave Jack a small window, but maybe just big enough.  Thinking long and hard Jack remember that their was a scientist in the police station, he would have been the one examining the evidence from the scene.  He was the one Jack needed to get to.  As he explained his idea, and half thought-out plan to Winsome he drove to the only hotel in town.  Jack parked around the corner and had Winsome duck down while he was gone.  Inquiring at the desk got him no where with finding the Scientists room, but it got the desk worker to call him.  The man agreed to come down and see Jack, shortly after he hung up the phone Jack watched at the elevator doors parted reviling the same scientist that he had seen in the Police station. 
         “Yes?  What can I do for you?” the older man said politely.
         “When you were investigating the murder of Jonathan Newman, how many empty shells were their in the gun?”  The question caught the older man off guard and he stammered a bit as he took off his glassed wiping them with his shirt to stall for time as he composed himself. 
         “I cant talk about that to you.”
         “Then don’t talk to me about it, but go check for me, and for yourself, if their were only three shells, like I believe there was only three, then what happened to the other shells?  I believe Winsome Fletcher was set up, and set up by a professional.  I’m going to find out who but I need you to back me up.  Please, a woman’s life is on the line here.”  The Scientist was still reeling from the first question, and was shaken up considerably more after this newest charge that was given him.  He nodded to Jack and mumbled that he would do what he could.  Jack shook his hand and hurried out the hotel front doors.  In the distance he heard sirens, they were coming from the direction of his apartment.  Hell was slowly breaking lose, all Jack had to do was keep Winsome and himself ahead of the game, till he got everything straitened out.  As they drove away they left perhaps their only hope standing in a lobby scratching his head.

Chapter 6 ~ Dreams or Memories

         The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, the cops were still mainly focused on the outskirts of town scanning the woods and watching the roads.  Winsome saw this as a great advantage and that they were going to have smooth sailing as they figured out the murder.  Jack saw it as a nose that was being tied, and was about to be tightened.  They drove around looking for a place to stay, the cops would look everywhere, they just had to find the place they would search last.  His thoughts were interrupted as his phone rang.  He looked at the screen, it was a restricted call again.
         “Hello, how’s McElroy doing?”
         “He is on the war path and is trying to get an order passed to shoot you two on sight because of being armed an dangerous.” Bill Jameson had a menacing tone, that unnerved Jack.
         “I’m flattered.” Jack knew that Jameson was trying to play games with him so all he had to do was remember the Bill Jameson from college and all threats became hollow. 
         “Jack there is no way out of town, there is no place in town that won’t be overrun with cops by tonight, and you’ve got a murder with you.  You’re an accomplice in a murder Jack, do you know what kind of time your looking at?”
         Jack squeezed the wheel tighter, it was working Jameson was getting to him.  Jack smiled, he knew how to fight back.  “Remember that time you were on your way back from the showers and me and Josh light your boxers on fire?”  That worked amazingly well for shutting Jameson up.  “Bill, listen to me.  Winsome didn’t kill Jon, we aren’t going to run, we are going to stay right here and figure out who really killed him and why.  We got a lead and we are following it.  All I want is time, give us some time to get to the bottom of this.”
         “No way Jack, we are coming for you now and we are coming hard.”
         “Ill be waiting for you Bill.”  The line went dead. 
         Jack shut down his phone for good, he wouldn’t need it again.  Looking at the clock, he saw the time to be right after five, despite Jameson threat of immediate retaliation, Jack knew that it would be about another five hours till the cops started searching buildings.  They parked the truck in an abandon warehouse and started walking. 
         Winsome walked a step behind Jack, he gave her space.  She was replaying memory after memory of Jon.  She twisted her finger in her hair absently as thoughts and memories flitted threw her head.  Half were reminiscing on a lost friend, the other half she was searching for clues, ideas, motives, anything.  She sighed to herself, nothing.  This was going to be harder than she thought.  Looking up at Jack she felt a pain in her chest, she couldn’t help feeling that she was using him.  She shook her head, focus she had to focus. 
         They were walking for another hour before they were far enough away from the truck to be safe.  They were in a part of town for the high class.  Jack was looking for something, and the later in the day the more frantic he got.  Finally his eyes lit up and he pointed across the street, to a for sale sign.  High-class homes would be the last place the cops would look, they would start with the warehouses, and find the truck, it would be morning before they got around to checking homes.  That was all the time they needed to get rested and be back on their guard.  The only downfall was getting out of the house, a quite rich neighborhood was not the easiest place to sneak around un-noticed.
         Two minutes with a credit card and the back door swung open, the place was completely empty, no food or furniture, nothing.  They went to the third floor, where they would have the most time to react if anyone came in, and snuggled into their separate corners to get some sleep.  The polished hard wood floor was less than comfortable.  Jack shifted again, the hard wood sent pains down his side,  while the smell of wood filled his nose.  He looked over at Winsome, she was already out.
         “Oh come on, when was the last time we got to go on a drive,  please?”
         “Just a short one.”
Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief, this might even work out to his advantage.  Tonight was going to change his life forever, he just knew it.
         Ten minutes later the tab was settled and they were in his convertible driving up to a city overlook that Jonathan knew about, it was the perfect romantic spot to pop the question.  In an attempt to keep the awkward silence away Jon spoke up, “How’s that bank thing going? Don’t you have everything wrapped up in that?”
Winsome smiled to himself, “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.  Things have a way of working out.” then she smiled and to avoid anymore questions on the subject added “Well if you don’t drive any faster I wont have to worry about it because ill be in a nursing home by the time we get anywhere.”
         Jonathan was not about to let a challenge like that go and he sped up to get a reaction out of Winsome.  The convertible rounded curve after curve splashing threw puddles.  The only car on the road on this rainy night. 
         When they got to the overlook the rain had stopped and Jonathon hit the switch to put the top down on his convertible.  They sat there looking out at the mass of lights that now lay in front of them that formed Oakgrove.  A city of about ten thousand people.  In front of them they saw what looked like an army of fireflies, in ranks of thousands.  They sat in silence just enjoying the view, or at least Jon did.  Winsome knew what had to be done but she didn’t relish the thought.  She couldn’t believe that it had come to this.  As nervous as Jon was she knew he was about to propose, and she wasn’t going to spend her life as a wife of a business man.  However, being rich and living on a beach, that she could see herself as.  Losing all her money had made her desperate, she only had one option left now.  She pointed up, “Look Jon a shooting star make a wish.”  As he looked up, she clicked the glove-box open and pulled out Jon’s revolver.  He was as startled as he was horrified.  She opened her door and stepped out. 
         “What are you doing?”
         “Changing my future, to something a little more, sunny.”
The shots shattered the cool night air.
         Winsome woke with a start covered in sweat, eyes wide.  She looked around the abandoned room, Jack was still sleeping, though not very soundly from the look of him.  She closed her eyes as tight as she could, she couldn’t get the horrible memory out of her head.  She caught herself, grabbing a handful of hair and gritting her teeth, she growled at herself, ‘Not a memory, a nightmare.’  She lay down and began to silently sob to herself.  No one believed that she didn’t do it, it seemed that ever her subconscious doubted her innocence.  She was rolled over trying to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep, when she heard the creak of wood on wood the moan of an old house.  She had grown up in an old farm house, and she had heard that sound many times, as her mom or dad would walk the stairs when she was in bed.  But her parents weren’t here, no one was here to walk the stairs.  No one that was welcome.  Winsome crawled over to Jack and put a slim hand over his mouth, his eyes opened and he gave a start, but he didn’t make any noise.
         Winsome lowered her mouth to his ear, “There is someone coming up the stairs.”
She watched as Jack nodded and then snuck to the door of the room they were in that looked out into the hallway.  Winsome had nothing to gather so she just sat and waited.  Waited for the verdict on what her next few moments would hold.  Jack slowly backed away from the door and headed for the window beckoning Winsome to follow, she crawled on her hands and knees after him.  She could hear the creaking of more feet sneaking threw the house.  She couldn’t tell, but it sounded like their was at least two people checking room to room of the abandon house. 
         Jack slowly lifted the window trying to get it up without any sound, he managed it half way before it jammed making a soft, but too loud squeak.  The footsteps stopped,  Jack motioned to Winsome to try to get out the window the way it was.  She rose to her knees and got her head and arms out before their was a sound behind her, the sound of a doorknob twisting.  She had no time to react before Jack shouldered her the rest of the way threw the window.  As she fell she didn’t know how but the window shattered as she fell onto the roof.  She rolled once and slid to a stop looking back threw the window she heard a tussle and then to Winsome’s horror she heard a sound that she had only heard on movies.  But recognized it for the spitting of a silenced gun.  She heard Jack cry out in a half muffled grown of agony and then she heard a crashing sound followed by what sounded like a bag of flower being beaten with a wooded stick.  She was frozen with fear and horror.  Not knowing what became of Jack, not knowing what to do next.  Suddenly Jack came threw the window.  The roof didn’t have much slope to it and Winsome found herself drug to her feet and running across its cool black shingles.  She didn’t hear the sound of the silenced gun anymore but to her left there was a small explosion.  She threw her hands over her ear out of reaction.  They came to the end of the roof and she was about to turn and run in another direction when Jack jumped from the roof to a shed a couple feet away and about five feet down from the roof the were on.  Winsome followed without giving thought to how high she was from the grass below.  She was too disoriented to think.  The world was a blur, nothing seemed coherent.  As they ran Winsome starting getting her wits back about her.  Jack led her threw yards and back alleys till they both were gasping for air and their legs were screaming for rest.  Winsome collapsed into the ankle deep grass that surrounded her.  Jack leaned against a wooden fence breathing hard.  Though he was still on guard, he kept his eyes always moving checking and rechecking all shadows and anything that moved.  When they had settled down a bit Winsome looked to Jack.  She was about to ask what happened while she was on the roof then she realized a that Jacks flannel shirt was shining in the moonlight right above his left elbow.  A red shine.  All other thoughts drained out of her mind, “Are you okay?”
         “I’m alive, which is a good deal more than luck, those two guys seemed set on making sure we didn’t see morning.”
         “Cops?”
         “No, they didn’t identify themselves, and they had silencers on their guns.”
         “So they weren’t Cops.  Who were they?”
         Jack grabbed his arm and winced in pain, “I think I’m starting to believe your side of the story Winsome.” He smiled at her, she would have smiled back but for the pain that she saw in his smile. 
         She got to her feet and walked to Jack, still trying to calm her breathing she took a closer look at Jack’s arm.  It had grazed the side of his arm, but it was a deep graze, and it was bleeding pretty good.  However it wasn’t bleeding bad enough to require immediate medical attention.  She helped jack out of the flannel, and then as she was ripping the sleeve to make a bandage she noticed the gun sticking our of the back of Jack’s belt. 
         “Where did you get that?”
         Jack laughed, “In all the excitement of being shot I forgot about that thing, not used to having one of them.” Winsome was still looking at him inquisitively, “It was curtsey of McElroy, he gladly donated it to our worthy cause.”
         With an edge of extreme sarcasm Winsome asked, “Was that before or after you broke his nose.”
         “I’m pretty sure it was after.” Gritted his teeth as Winsome pulled the makeshift bandage tight.  Jack then continued, “Well we have a bit more of a problem now, this arm isn’t going to help us blend in, and we got more than cops on our trail now.”
         “Why would they want to kill us?  No one believes me anyway.”
         “You have one convert, plus I think you screwed up their plan when you weren’t arrested on the scene.  You ran and now they are trying to tie up lose ends.  With you dead no one can prove you didn’t kill Jon.”
         “What about the scientist at the hotel?”
         Jack froze, thinking furiously, would the old guy be more of a priority than winsome or less for these guys?  Would he be next to die, or was he already dead?  Ether way they had to go back and check on him.  They were in a middle class part of town, less than five blocks from the house they had just left,  Jack couldn’t see it anymore and they had made enough turns to lose their pursuers.  Jack tried the door handle on the garage at the end of the wooden fence he had been leaning on it was unlocked, looking around in the dark he managed to find an old mechanics button up shirt.  It was stained and ripped, but it would do for what Jack needed.  He had to have Winsome button the shirt for him as his arm wasn’t bending to well right now.  He rubbed it again as they started off sneaking down the closest ally.

         Gavin cursed as he unscrewed his pistols silencer, putting it in his front jacket pocket sliding the pistol into the holster that hung right below his armpit.  Luke remained silent as he slid a fresh clip into his gun.  Gavin was putting on his leather coat when he broke the silence again, “That chick is really getting on my nerves.”
         Luke turned to Gavin and added, “Ill be happy when I can put another bullet in her friend, next time a little closer to his heart.”
         Gavin chuckled as Luke rubbed a hand threw his long brown hair, “Your just sour because he was strong enough to get you off balance and  tripped you down the stairs.”
         “You shut up or ill go tell Mr. Cohen the terrible tragedy of how Winsome shot you in the face.”  Gavin made no reply just gave a half mouthed smile. “Now get out of my way we got go kill that stupid scientist Gregor, and keep looking for Winsome.”
         “By the way how are we going to kill the old guy?” Gavin spoke with a calm as if he were mentioning going to the store for groceries.
         “I hear tell he has a horrible heart condition, would be a shame if he had a heart attack.”  Saying thus Luke pulled a small box from his inner jacket pocket. 

Chapter 7 ~ Hotel Showdown

         Gregor sat at the small desk that was to be found in the corner of his crammed hotel room.  He had one window that looked out on the back yard of the hotel, he was on the second floor and the view was less than breathtaking.  Grass and a hedge that partially hid the houses behind.  A dumpster was visible on the left side of his view.  His view wandered away from the city scene in front of him, looking to the clock he saw the time to be five in the morning.  The sun had yet to show signs of existing.  Gregor rubbed his eyes and took another sip of his coffee.  He had been packing to go home not twelve hours ago.  Then a unshaven crazy eyed young man no older than twenty five had made such a moving exclamation of the young woman Winsome’s innocence that Gregor had gone back to his room and re-spread all the evidence papers out on his desk.  He had been looking at them ever since, he had been about to give up shortly after starting till he had followed the advice of the young man and checked on the gun.  When he had confirmed that there had only been three shots in the gun, Gregor had been hooked back into the case all night.  Why only three shots?  Checking all the pictures of the crime scene no hint of the other shells could be found.  They were not in the glove box, they were not by the car.  They didn’t exist.  As he re-studied the entire case he found another over looked piece of information.  The anonyms call.  Their were no homes in that area.  The road to the overlook dead-ended another half mile farther, so there was no traffic usually. Where would the woman have called from?  How would the cop have known to detain Winsome?  Then another piece of information stuck Gregor.  Why was the cop going up to the overlook anyway?  He was not a detective, his job was to look at the crime scene and check for finger prints and anything else the local police would need.  But there was to many pieces of this puzzle that had been forced into place, pieces that didn’t fit.  Gregor had all the proof he needed to talk to the cops.  The next morning he would present his case on the innocents of Winsome Fletcher.  Till then he needed some rest.  Yawning he rose from his desk and went to the wall flipping off the lights, he collapsed on the bed and fell asleep. 
         Jack and Winsome snuck along the hedge row behind the hotel, staying out of the lights set on the corners of the hotel.  They came to a dumpster and crouched behind it.  They searched the parking lot for any sign of life.  It was still dark, but would not be for long.  On the main road Jack saw a patrol car pass, driving slowly.  As Jack was about to make a run for it to the hotel lobby, he saw a black car pull into the parking lot, it slowly creped around the lot, pulling into a space a few slots down from the door.  Both doors opened and two men stepped out of its dark interior.  Jack couldn’t see the one man but the other he readily remembered as the same man he had pushed down a flight of stairs back at the abandoned house, the same guy that had put a bullet threw his arm.  That clearly spoke of the identity of his friend.  There went their lobby entrance.  Jack checked the back door that was just behind them, he saw a maid stocking a cart with food to set out for the customers breakfast.  Jack tapped Winsome and motioned for her to follow him.  They walked up to the door, and made a show of looking for their key card.  Winsome was looking threw her purse and Jack was making enough nose that the maid would be able to hear him.  She promptly and politely came to the door, opening it for them.  She seemed somewhat suspicious of Jack with his grease stained shirt.  Jack was so polite and kind in his thanking her for her help that she smiled and said that it was her pleasure, as she went back to her work.  In the light Jack saw that he had a little more than grease on his shirt.  Blood has soaked threw Winsome’s patch job, and his hand had a good covering of blood on it.  No wonder the maid was suspicious.  Jack and winsome traveled the hall way keeping an eye out for the two men.  Jack rounded a bend and then jumped back grabbing Winsome to keep her from stepping into the line of sight of two men that were standing waiting for the elevator.  There was only four stories to the hotel so they couldn’t be going far,  Jack and Winsome ran to the staircase as soon as the men stepped into the elevator.  They took the stairs two by two rushing to beat the men to the next floor,  Jack would have to gamble for each floor,  he cracked the door and was about to open the door it when he saw the two men walk by, he ducked lower despite the fact that they had already gone past.  He pulled the gun from out of his belt and flipped the clip release, he winced as he caught the falling clip with his left hand, he checked to make sure it was loaded, then he clicked it back into the pistol.  He patted his pocket to make sure that the spare clips where still in place.  Convinced everything was in place he headed out into the hall to follow the two men, gun held in both hands.  He saw them round a corner ahead,  he as quietly as he could down the hall.  When he reached the corner he looked back to see Winsome watching from the stairwell door.  Then look around the corner he saw the two men knocking at a door.  Before he had time to act the door was opened a bit and they forced their way in, a muffled yelp was all that could be heard, at that only barely.  Jack hurried to the door it was still cracked open, he took a breath.  He needed a plan, but he couldn’t think of one.  Another muffled sound from the scientist was all he needed, Jack pushed the door open.  Leading with his pistol searching for a target.  Jack was tired of not knowing anyone’s names.  Three men were before him.  All of which he knew but none of them he knew names for.  The two attackers where both dressed in black.  The larger of the two had dark brown hair and had a black leather jacket on, Jack recognized him as the one that had given him his arm trouble.  The second had blue jeans on but still wore the black shirt and the same leather jacket.  Unlike his friend however he was shaved bald, and was watching the larger man hold his hand over the Scientist telling him to swallow, or they would shoot him.  Jack called out for them to freeze.  The bald one turned and when he saw it was Jack got a wicked smile on his face.
         “Or what? Your going to kill me?” He took a step toward him, “I don’t think you have what it takes.”
         “I’ve never killed a man your right, but I would think it would be hilarious to shoot you in the leg.”  He added a smile as he aimed high on the mans calf.  The man seemed to hesitate at that.
         Spreading his hands he stepped back, “You have my attention.”  Jack didn’t take the gun off the first man and turned to the second. 
         “Let him go.” The taller man obliged. The scientist spit out a white pill and stepped back from the two men.  “Now what are your names?  I’m pretty sure your on record at the police station so if I get out of this ill know your names anyway so no use lying.”
         The man with long brown hair motioned to the other, “This is Gavin, my name is Luke, you now have our names, now we have a choice for you.”  The bald man named Gavin made a move Jack refocused his attention on him, and by the time he had looked back to Luke the man already had his pistol pulled and aimed at the Scientist.  Jack wasn’t one for swearing but he let one escape.  Aiming at Luke resulted in letting Gavin draw his weapon.  Another curse escaped Jack.  The Scientist spoke up,
         “Is this how you saw it going?  Or in your head did it actually work?”
         Gavin spoke next, “Come on hero, put the gun down, or we are going to have a bloodbath on our hands, ill shoot you, you’ll shoot me Luke will shoot Gregor. Everyone dies, or you could put the gun down and we all live.”  They all stood still, silent waiting.  Gregor looked out the window and then stepped toward it.  Luke and Gavin were both watching Jack.  Suddenly the window smashed inward, time slowed down for everyone.  At the center of the shattered pieces of glass flying threw the air was a softball size rock.  Gregor started toward the window.  Luke and Gavin both turned to the window.  Gregor was already jumping threw as they aimed to fire.  Luke got off one shot before more shells started thudding into the plaster of the room.  The two assassins turned again, confused and disoriented by their ever changing environment.  Jack was backing out of the door firing as fast as his gun would.  Flame was spitting out his barrel and smoking empty shell casing were spinning to the ground beside him.  Gavin and Luke turned their attention to him and he abandoned firing and ran when the doorway started exploding with wood splinters.  Jack ran down the hall sliding around the corner and running for stairwell.  If he was not mistaken Winsome was no longer there, but out in the yard behind the hotel.  He got to the door just as a couple more bullets smacked into the wall behind him.  He let a couple shots go behind him till his gun clicked empty.  As he ran down the stairs he released the empty clip and slammed a new one into the gun, now on such an adrenaline high he was completely ignore the pain pounding in his left arm. 
         Gavin wiped his face, blinking as he ran down the hall after the biggest pain in his but he had ever encountered.  Down the stairs and to the glass door that lead outside, Luke was pounding down the stairs after him, as Gavin put his hand on the door, it spider-web cracked with a sharp smashing sound.  Gavin jumped to his side throwing a hand out to stop Luke.  They waited for a second.  Was Jack the type to stay behind and give the others a chance to escape or would he play them for fools and keep them here hiding from a ghost.  Gavin didn’t know the man well enough to bet his life on that decision.  Luke took his position for the door breach, it had been ten years since they were discharged from the army but they still knew the drills.  Checking the scenery before they made their exit cost them too much time, there was no sign of Jack, Winsome or Gregor anywhere.  They checked the yard by the broken window, their was divot where Gregor had landed, but no other marks could be found.  Gavin swore again kicking the wall as hard as he could, Luke turned back to his partner.  “They got us I.D.ed and they got the scientist, that can prove we killed Jonathan Newman.  We get pinched and it all points to Mr. Cohen, if he gets rapped up in this we would be better off dead, you know that.”
         “Shut it!  You don’t think I know how much trouble we are in?  We got to kill them all, and we got to kill them yesterday.”

Chapter 8 ~ Gregor
         Winsome had an arm around Gregor’s shoulders helping him to walk.  He was limping and had a small dribble of blood running from his forehead, but he was alive.  A fact that he thanked both Jack and Winsome for repetitively.  They would thank him then encourage him to be quite.  Cops from all over the town were all heading for the hotel.  They would scream by on side roads.  It was slow going for the three fugitives from both their murderers and the police.  They made a odd group sneaking from hedge to fence, staying ever in the shadows.  A suspected murderer, a forty year old scientist, and a twenty-five year old rough neck worker.  They made it a good ten blocks from the hotel before they rested.  The horizon was turning golden with the tip of the sun starting to break above the tree tops, far in the distance.  They were in an ally, behind an old bakery that had a had a neon sign of a half eaten doughnut sputtering by the road.  It wouldn’t be long now before the first workers showed up to start the giant machines and get the days pastries baking for sale. Their was still a lingering smell of dough and frosting wafting around the ally as the three sat on the ground recovering from the a night of excitement and adrenaline.  Jack had escaped mostly unharmed from the firefight, he had a large splinter stick in his side, right below his ribcage, but it was a small wound and only bled a little.  Gregor had the worst beating from the night, he was to old of a man to be jumping out second story windows, luckily for him it had not been a very far fall, and the ground was wet from the rain the last couple days.  He had escaped with only a limp and a cut on his forehead. 
         As soon as the older man had caught his breath he smoothed the front of his light blue shit and spoke, “I now know you are innocent Winsome, that is why they came to kill me.  I don’t know how they new.  I only called the police, and told them I had some new information on the case.  I didn’t talk to anyone else.”  Winsome and Jack looked at each other.  They both knew what the other was thinking.  One name was in both their heads.  McElroy.  Gregor continued.  “There was more than the three shells in the gun.  There was the witness that called, there is no logical way that their would have been someone up their that the cop that was on his way up wouldn’t have scene, finally the third piece of the puzzle is the cop himself.  He would have had to got an anonymous tip to go up to the lookout, there is no crime reports coming from up their, it’s a quite spot and the cops never go up their.  None of it fits, it all points to your innocence Winsome.  I was going to go to the police with all this information this morning.”
         Jack nodded, “Thanks Gregor, most men in your position would have ignored our encounter all together and would have gone on with their lives.”
         Gregor chuckled, “You intrigued me, you seemed to have a lot of passion for one so grubby.”  All three of them chuckled at that.
         They were there for a couple more minutes and were about to get up to leave when a black car pulled up in front of the alleyway, the three froze.  Their was no way out for them this time.  The car was on the other side of the road from the entrance to the alley, but their was no way out that all three of them could make it.  Jack watched as the black car with tinted windows idled in front of them, completely trapping them.  Jack saw one chance for them to get out, a small window that led into the basement of the bakery.  It was a large enough hole to fit threw, but they wouldn’t have time to get all of them threw it.  Maybe he could get Winsome threw and distract Gavin and Luke long enough for her to get away.  Chances were slim however.  As the door to the black car cracked and opened slowly, Jack’s mind raced.  Suddenly the door closed and after a little bit the car slowly drove away.  Jack headed for the window, he didn’t know where those two were going, but he figured they would be back, and he didn’t plan on being here when they did.  Winsome uttered a curse word and Jack looked up, to see why Gavin and Luke had left.  A police car was slowly driving by, as soon as Jack made eye contact with the officer inside the blue lights came on with a screech.  The door was open and Jack heard the officer yell at them to put their hands in the air.  Jack obliged and saw Gregor and Winsome do the same.  The cop took a step toward them before he could take his second, he was jerked back collapsing against his car.  Jack spun looking up to the rooftop behind him.  Gavin stood the early morning sun shining from behind him, only his silhouette on the roof could be seen,  Jack kicked the window sending glass shards skittering across the cement floor below.  Grabbing Winsome he pushed her toward the opening while pulling his gun.  By the time he could fire, Gavin had already gotten his second shot off.  Jack squeezed the trigger and smiled as he saw a red mist appear to the left of Gavin.  It wasn’t fatal and Gavin was racking another shell into his rifle.  Jack turned to usher Gregor into the bakery basement, only to find the old man sprawled out on the pavement a pool of blood soaking threw his light blue button up shirt.  Jack knew he had no time to grieve and turned and followed Winsome.  She was looking out the window.          
         “Where’s Gregor?”
         Jack pulled grabbed her arm as he ran to deeper into the basement.  “He got shot.  He’s dead.”  Jack had a thought of anger at his own emotionless voice.  He was to worried about keeping Winsome and himself from ending up the same way.
         Winsome lost all strength in her legs and collapsed to the floor.  Jack slid to a stop turning to her he motioned for her to hurry.
         “Why? What’s the use?  Will it ever end?  No one believes us!  The only man that we had on our side is now dead!  What’s the use?”
         Jack kneeled by Winsome, “The cops are going to figure out that you and me are innocent if we keep alive long enough.  They cant believe that we shot up the hotel, the scientist and the cop.  If we can stay alive long enough I’m sure that Jameson will get wise to what’s going on and then he’ll help us out.  He takes his job seriously, but he’s still an old friend, and he’ll help us out.  Don’t worry all we got to do is stay alive to the end of today and we will be fine.  Trust me.”  Jack saw some hope trickle back into Winsome’s eyes.  Getting her to have hope was well worth having to lie.  He didn’t know if their was any hope at all now.  He knew that McElroy would blame everything on them.  Gavin and Luke must be working for some big-wig that was tied to Jonathan, a big-wig that paid off McElroy. 
         Winsome got back to her feet, drawing the back of her hand across her face, wiping away the tears that dotted her cheeks and nose.  She nodded and Jack smiled at her, “Come on Winsome lets go somewhere safe.” 
         Jameson stood with his hands on hips looking at the torn apart hotel room in front of him.  McElroy was rooting threw the debris, of the room looking for clues. 
         Jameson turned as a young officer named  Ted Matthews walked up to him, “Sir, officer Ted Matthews reporting.”  Before Jameson could reply, McElroy stood, from his meditative crouch. 
         “As near as I can figure, Gregor was in here when Gibbons broke in and tried to kidnap him.  Gregor pulled a gun and fired at Gibbons.  Gibbons returned fire, hitting the window with a stray shot.  Gregor ran out of shells and Gibbons grabbed him and drug him out.”
         “Pretty dead sure that Jack Gibbons made this mess aren’t you?”
         “Fits doesn’t it?”
         Ted Matthews spoke up, “What about the shots in the hall?  Besides the window is broken inward not out.”
         Both Jameson and McElroy looked at the newcomer to the crime scene.  Then they looked at the room again, to see that Matthews was correct the glass was shattered in not out.  The young officer continued, “Besides, there is a rock by the bed there, it looks about perfect for throwing.  Someone must have been outside and used it as a distraction.”  Jameson and McElroy were both stunned by the observance of Matthews.
         Their radios all crackled at once, “Officer Down, officer down.  By the downtown bakery.  Suspected to be a citizen down as well.”  The voice crackled on about units reporting but not one of the three men heard another word they were all running threw the hotel toward their cars.
         The scene behind the bakery was gruesome indeed.  One dead officer, and one dead scientist.  Their was no sign of Jack or Winsome.  But McElroy didn’t need any sign.  He stopped over to Jameson. “You know it was them as well as I do, they shot a cop and the killed Gregor!  This could all have been avoided our man would have shot them on sight!  He didn’t shoot them, and now he is dead.”
         Jameson had grown up with Winsome and Jack both, he was closer with Jack but he had liked them both, “Fine, they stepped over the line here.  There is no hope for bringing them in quietly.  Tell the men to shoot on sight, don’t give them a chance to kill another one of our men.”

Chapter 9 ~ Into the Lions Den

         A local grocery store was right around the corner from the bakery, it was a large story, the leading food distributor for all of Oakgrove.  The cops drove this way and that past the large structure.  It sat overlooked for the entire morning.  A robin twittered and flew threw the air without a care, below there was a hustle and commotion in an ally with sheets covering lumps on the pavement.  The robin paid no attention however, it banked left and lighted on the edge of a skylight.  Cocking its head it looked down onto the top of a immense maze metal scaffolding, each shelf stocked high with unopened boxes of food, and supplies, on top of one of these metal structures, two people lay sleeping, one curled up, dreaming restless of death, her red hair falling over a rolled up grimy work shirt.  The other was a man a short way off, laying peacefully, sleeping while wounds healed.  The robin twittered again, flapping its wings and spiraling into the air.  Off to find a worm. 
         Jack slept peacefully, but light.  A passing forklift, or employing searching for something that needed to be stocked would wake him every, now and then.  They were far from the ground, and it was not likely they would be noticed soon.  Before they had climbed to there abode for the day Jack had grabbed a bag of pretzels from one of the large open crates.  Winsome had shown more foresight when she grabbed a few bottles of water.  She now slept soundly, still having the same repeating dream of Jonathan’s death.  Each ending differently, sometimes it was her, sometimes Gavin, once it was even Jack.  They came so frequently, that they stopped waking her up.  Her subconscious kept battling the truth with her fears, and others suspicions.  The morning drained away, and slowly ushered in the afternoon.  Sleep was something they both needed dearly, and now they were finally able to get it.  Around three o-clock in the afternoon Winsome finally opened her eyes to a brilliant light shining threw the skylight.  She yawned and went to sit up, then she realized where she was.  A momentary fear gripped her, then the memories and fact flooded back to her and she lay back down.  She heard a psst from behind her, arching her neck she looked down the metal shelf.  Jack was on the far end his back to the wall and a bottle of water in his hand.  He looked around to both sides of the shelf and motioned her to come over.  It was an easy crawl, the shelf was about six feet wide, when she reached Jack he slid over and offered her the rest of his water.  He nodded his head to the double door to their left.  No one was around but he still whispered,
         “They have to come in and out of that door, from as near as I can figure there is a back door and a loading bay, but they aren’t being used today, so I think we should be clear.”
         “This place closes at eleven tonight I believe, so we can have a grand meal then.  She licked her lips as she envisioned all the food they could eat.”
         “How do you like food so much, and still be skinny?”
         “Running for your life and being shot at is a great work out.” She stuck her tongue out at him. 
         Jack smiled, it had been to long since her heard her say something funny, and enjoy herself.  It was short lived however, for her next statement was on a more somber note.  “Thanks for giving me hope this morning, I needed to know it was all going to work out.”
         Jack hoped she still had a little humor left in her, or she was going to kill him for this, “Yeah, about that.  Now that you seem to be doing better and all I think you should know I was totally lying to you to keep you on your feet.”           A cold glare was her only reply.  “That’s not to say that we don’t have hope now however.  I have a master plan that will clear your name before tomorrow night…”
         Jack rubbed his cheek trying to get the red hand print to fade. “I agree I shouldn’t have lied, but it was a necessity at the moment.”  He knew he was never going to live that down, “Well at least hear my plan.”
         She nodded somewhat coldly, “Go on, I’m listening.”
         “We know that McElroy must be the cop that is being bribed, that clears or should clear Jameson.  Plus I think he takes his job seriously enough not to be able to be bribed.  That means if we can get information to him about Gavin and Luke, then we are set.  He will clear our names and we will be scotch free in no time.”
         Winsome seemed more interested by his plan, “Sounds good to me, but how do we get a hold of Jameson?”
         Jack waited a moment, “Well…see that’s the part of my plan that seems to be lacking in brilliance.  The only thing I can think of is to sneak into the police station and get on their computers access criminal files find Gavin and Luke, find out why they would want Jonathan dead, and you framed for it.  When we have the puzzle pieces there we can just leave it on his desk.  We will leave him a meeting place to come and talk to us, if he believes it.”
         Winsome nodded till the end, “You lost me at the part where we have to go into the one place that we have been trying so hard to not end up in.”
         “Not end up there against our will I might add.” Jack mentioned.
         “What about the last part, if Jameson doesn’t believe us cant he still show up at the meeting spot and arrest us?”
         “So its less than brilliant I already admitted to that.”
         “Less than brilliant, indeed.  However it’s a plan, and we haven’t had one of those all week, that has to count for something.”  As she was speaking Winsome starting running her fingers threw her hair straightening it,  then she began grabbing handfuls and weaving them into a complicated braid.
         “Your doing your hair?”  Jack asked incredulously.
         “If I’m going to spend the day running for my life and breaking into police stations I got to look good for it.”
         Jack smirked, “To late for that, you look like crap.”  One of the employs was walking by the double doors that led into the storage room, they stopped for a minute when they thought they heard a sharp slapping sound, but continued without giving it a second thought.
         Jack and Winsome spent the day idly chatting,  they were in no immediate danger and they took the time to enjoy themselves and not worry about what was going to happen next.  Jack purposefully kept the topics light, knowing very well that if they lived to see another morning their was a  great chance that they would see it threw bars.  That meant that this very well could be their last hours of freedom, or life depending on how bad this coming night went.
         Around eleven o’clock the story closed to customers, the employ’s spent another hour cleaning and stocking the shelves, and about midnight the last sounds of people had left and the lights all snapped off instantly dousing the entire story in pitch blackness.  The two fugitives waited another ten minutes before they carefully felt there way slowly down the rack.  In the pitch dark it was much harder of a task and they each almost fell once.  Once down they snuck threw the dark room to the double doors, when Jack was sure they were alone, he stood upright and stretched. 
         “As long as we stay away from the windows we should be good, the police will be around to check on the doors windows to see if there is any sign of entry, so if we stay out of sight they should go elsewhere to check.”  Winsome seemed more interested in a nearby pack of crackers than listening to Jack, so he rolled his eyes and gave her a playful push.  She grabbed the bag of crackers and opened them, eating five before even thinking to offer the bag to Jack.  The wandered around the store for at least an hour making a fine meal out of the various things they could find.  Jack kept a mental tally of the general amount of the food they ate. 
         “I am fully expecting you to pitch in half at least for all this.”
         Winsome smiled, “Well I’m already up for murder, petty theft isn’t that bad comparatively bad.”
         Jack smiled, “Would be a pity to get this hole murder mess and find yourself in jail for theft though.”
         She paused a moment, “Good point, half it is.”  When they had both eaten well they set about to finding anything that might be handy in their raid of the police station.  Their was part of an isle for medical supplies, grabbing a role bandage, and some hydrogen-peroxide, Jack made his way to the bathroom.  Taking off his shirt, that was by now covered, in blood, sweat, and mud.  He tossed it in the trash can,  he then took a handful off paper towels and wetting them scrubbed all the dried blood from his chest and arm.  He cleaned his side, where the splinter had cut into him.  It was slow and painful work, but it was nothing compared to the peroxide on the open cuts.  He pounded a fist into the white porcelain sink as white foam bubbled out of his arm, cleaning the now day old cut.  He had hoped it would be healed enough not to hurt so bad, turned out he had been wrong.
         Winsome still searched around the store, she had found a pair of flashlights, and a pack of batteries hanging near by, but she had been searching for book bags and rope ever since without success.  She found a shelf with some shirts on it.  They didn’t have a large variety but she was able to get a clean, black shirt that was at least close to her size, she looked to make sure Jack was no where about, before she swapped her old one out for the clean new one.  She grabbed a large shirt of the from the same rack and took it with her to go find Jack.  She found him coming out of the bathroom, cleaned up with a bandage covering his upper arm.  Their was also a couple passes around his lower ribcage.  She threw him the shirt. He held it out at arms length looking it over, he then looked at her.
         “Now we match, how sweet.”  He pulled it on, enjoying the feeling of a clean shirt.  Then turning back to Winsome he sobered up, realizing that their time of being able to forget their worries were over.  “Did you get anything we can use?”
         She held out the flashlights, “This is it, they didn’t have anything else of much use.”
         Jack nodded, taking the flashlight, he clicked it on to check the batteries then clicking it off spun it and slid it into his back pocket.  He moved his hand over a couple inches, his fingers brushed the cold steal of the gun handle.  Pulling it free he checked the clip.  It was empty, he patted his pockets till he found the last clip.  He took out the old one and slid the new one into place with a metallic click.  Fifteen shots left. 
         Getting into the police station was going to more than interesting.  With the threat of Winsome and Jack lose, there was going to be officers working round the clock.  To there advantage all the cops were out looking for them.  Why would they need to watch the police station?  That was Jack’s reasoning at least, to bad it was wrong. It took them two hours to get in the neighborhood of the police station with out being noticed.  The station was two stories tall, all the offices being on the second floor, while the bottom had a handful of holding cells and some other miscellanies rooms that were not to Jack, and Winsome’s purposes.  They needed an office, preferably Jameson’s but any computer would work.  There was a low crime rate in Oakgrove, so the station was not built to be a fortress, like some of the bigger cities, it was actually a converted apartment building.  Of course all that remained of the old building was the outer walls, and roof.  The inside had been gutted and redone to fit its new job.  Jack’s original plan was to break into a window from the fire-escape.  However that plan went out the window as soon as the station was in sight.  Downstairs the lights were on at least two rooms, and one of the offices upstairs was still flooding light threw the window into the darkness outside.  Winsome had a plan to pull the fire alarm, but raising any notification to anything out of the ordinary was the last thing they wanted.  It was almost three in the morning, and Jack didn’t know how early Jameson came in to work, especially with this case on his hands.  Jack decided they would have to risk being caught and sneak in.  From his earlier visit with Jameson, Jack knew that the front door was attended by an officer at all times.  So going in the front was out.  With the scattered lights on in ground floor, any entrance from that the bottom seemed to be out.  That left the roof, and a second floor window.  The office with the light was luckily situated on the far left, leavening the right open for Winsome and Jack.
         Jack slowly inched toward the fire-escape.  The cool night air was crisp and quite.  Adeline was coursing threw his veins, and all his senses were sharpened, his feet crunched softly on the gravel ally behind the police station.  Somewhere close by some teens were driving with their music up to loud, the bass thumbed almost as loud as Jack’s heart beat.  Jack took a deep breath of the cool night air.  As he reached the fire escape he cupped his hands for Winsome to step into.  The bottom rung of the ladder was at least eight feet off the ground.  With a boost Winsome was able to wrap her fingers around the bottom wrung.  She had to keep her balance on the ladder, but not let her full weight rest on it.  The rusted ladder was used monthly to ensure its safety but its use had nothing to do with the amount of noise it made lowering to the ground.  Inch by inch Winsome slowly pulled the ladder down.  Below her Jack was starting to shake from the exertion of holder her aloft.  To their left about ten feet was a dumpster for the stations garbage, and right before that was the back door.  If someone were to come out of that door now, there wasn’t a thing in the world they could do.  Jack let a slight grunt escape his lips as perspiration beaded on his forehead.  Winsome had the ladder half way down, but it was close enough to reach from the ground.  Careful to hold on to the ladder so as not to lose their advancement so far she whispered for Jack to lower her to the ground.  From their it was only a minute before the ladder was resting on the ground, all without enough sound to call any attention to them.  Up the ladder they went, once at the top they had two windows that they could reach from the small platform.  Winsome shivered against the night air.  On the platform the wind lazily flowed around them, taking with it the last reserves of warmth Winsome had.  While she watched Jack try in vain to open one of the two windows, winsome felt a slight warmth blow by in the wind.  Not much but it was something, but where did it come from?  Looking to her left down the brick building she saw a curtain whip out of a window just ten feet away.  Another gust of warmed air.  She patted Jack’s arm and pointed for the window.  Jack saw that the only way to reach it would be to stand in the inlet for one window and reach blindly for the next, risking a twenty foot fall to gravel at each step.  He also noticed that he wasn’t, near agile enough to do that.  He looked to the two windows he could reach, both locked.  Their was no way of getting threw them without alerting the officer that Jack could see working at his desk.  Light on and hands working quickly over a keyboard.  The officer would stop every now and then to take a sip from his coffee cup.  Jack nodded to Winsome, and then helped her step into the first window inlet.  The bricks were rough on Winsome’s soft hands.  She hugged the wall as tightly as she could, and even though she was upright, her gut felt as though it were suspended in air, felt like it was falling, felt like she was going to die.  She pushed all her thoughts and feelings down.  Reaching for the next window inlet she grabbed the brick edge.  She took what her mind was telling her would be her last breath as she kicked one leg around as far as possible, hoping it would land securely.  It did and after shifting her weight and grabbing the rough bricks harder she threw the rest of her body into a pivot.  Barely landing her other foot beside the first.  The quite of the night and the chill in the air were both gone.  Her ears were filled with the sound of her heart beating wildly, and her entire body was overheating.  Perspiration began coating her hands.  She rubbed them on her jeans, trying to dry them.  Two more windows to go.  She repeated the process, this time with less nervousness and more steady hands.  In a couple seconds she found herself hunched in the second window inlet, arms spread wide wedging her in the thin space.  Jack bit his lip as he watched Winsome slowly move from window to window.  She was now three out and only had one more to go, but below here was the edge of the dumpster, if she slipped now  she would be lucky to only end up paralyzed.  Jacks heart came into his throat as he saw her foot slip and small pieces of brick dust clatter to the gravel below.  She made a loud gasp and hugged the wall even tighter, between windows with one leg dangling.  She composed herself and finally inched into the last inlet.  Sliding the screen up she disappeared into the police station.
         Winsome hid behind a desk, taking note of the interior.  The middle of the room was a sea of desks covered in papers with a monitor popping threw every now and then.  Two sides of the room were offices.  One of which was as noted occupied.  Ever watchful and deathly quite Winsome stole toward the window next to the fire escape.  Flipping the catch to the right she slid the window open.  Jack came threw the window as quite as would a heavy mist.  Once in he left the window open for a quick exit rout.  Winsome watched as Jack looked around taking in what she had already observed.  He pointed to a corner office three doors down from the occupied one.  Winsome nodded to show she understood that it was Jameson’s office, they however could not use his computer without being seen, so they looked around for the next best place.  They headed for a office on the opposite wall.  Once inside they drew the blinds.  Jack stayed by the door to keep an eye on the other police officer.  While Winsome headed to the desk, spinning the rolling chair to face the desk she took a seat and turned the computer on.  It blinked once then flashed on with a blinding brightness, for Winsome’s night adjusted eyes.  She blinked twice trying to get the sting to lessen, she squinted at the screen, till it started to come into focus.  Grabbing the mouse she looked down the columns of folders scattered around the screen.  She clicked on a few till she came up with the right one.  A black box slid onto the screen with black spaces for a name search.  She new that Luke was to common a name to come up, but Gavin on the other hand…
         She motioned for Jack to come over to the computer, taking one last look to make sure their friend hadn’t move he joined her behind desk.  On the left side of the screen was Gavin’s face, younger and with a crew cut hair style, but unmistakably him.  On the right at the top was his name and a short paragraph about him.  It read, “A known affiliate with Luke Santrino.  Together they were dishonorably discharged from the U.S. military.  They became mercenaries for the highest bidder till they were hired for the small time crime boss Paul Cohen.  Believed to be associated in multiple crimes, but not convicted of anything as of yet.”  Winsome clicked on Paul Cohen’s name, which led her to a page of the same layout with a different picture.  His paragraph read, “Small time crime boss, resides in Trenton.  Has dealings with many small businesses.  Has never been connected directly to any of the crimes which are attributed to him.”
         Jack looked at Winsome, to excited to stay quite, he excitedly whispered, “This is it Winsome!  This Paul Cohen is the one behind all this.  Jon must have found something at work about the guy, maybe something to prove this guy had been stealing from them.  Who knows, but Jon caught this guy and was trying to find out what to do next when this guy sent Gavin and Luke.  They killed Jon, pinned the hole thing on you and were going to get away clean, but for you not getting caught, now they have been trying to tie up the lose ends so it doesn’t haunt them.”  Jack growled, “And the good old Oakgrove police have been helping them all the way, without even knowing it.”  Jack tapped winsome on the shoulder and motioned for her to move, she pushed out of the chair, and jack set to work.  Pulling up a blank writing document he began typing out, all they had found out.  He put in about the three shells in the gun and all that Gregor had told them.  Gavin and Paul Cohen’s reports.  Jack finished and clicked print.  As he was about to shut down the computer he decided to try one more thing.  Winsome gulped down a knot in her throat, as she looked out threw a crack in the blinds.  The other office was empty.  She saw the desk, with the light still on.  The chair was pushed back and spun sideways.  The door into the other office was ajar.  She backed away from the window, turning to Jack, he saw the look in her eyes and new immediately what she had scene.  Winsome locked her eyes on the door knob.  She heard Jack behind her still working on the computer.  All her senses focused on the knob in front of her.  Nothing else in the world mattered.  Nothing but the door knob.  All it had to do was turn and she would go to jail, possibly for life.  Behind her she heard Jack whisper, “Just another second…”          
         Patrolman Andrew Martin, rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the offices coffee pot.  He thought he had a lead on the Fletcher case, but he had been up all night searching and checking, leaving no idea un-checked.  He couldn’t think of where they would be.  His curly black hair was starting to get unkempt from the hours he spent at his desk, head in his hands thinking and checking over the case.  Filling his cup he took a fresh gulp, awful coffee, but he needed the caffeine.  He needed a promotion to buy a wedding ring for his girlfriend.  That is why he worked so hard on this case, he needed a lead.  Something to go on.  He had to find them first.  As he walked back to the office that had been lent to him for the night, he noticed a glow coming from one of the offices across the way.  Not the light of a light, or desk lamp.  Maybe a flashlight, or monitor.  He started to the door, not on edge, just inquisitively.  Turning the knob of the door he pushed it open and was proven right in his guess.  Someone had left their computer on.  He walked over to the desk and taped a button, sending the computer into a dark sleep.  As he did the room was plunged into darkness, so much so he failed to notice two shapes move from the shadows along the wall into the shadows of the maze of desks.  Leaving the office he shut the door and headed back to his computer and his ever diligent search for Winsome Fletcher.  Once their he stretched his arms and cracked his neck beginning to type once again, oblivious to the shadows that made their way to Jameson’s desk and then back to the open window by the fire escape. 
         Once they were out of ear shot Winsome turned to Jack, “Did you set up a meeting?”
         “Yeah, at the abandon warehouse we left my truck at.”
         “At around nine this morning.  I don’t want to have to lurk around much longer.”  They were still at considerable risk this close to the heart of the city. So Winsome let the conversation drop at that and they began the long arduous journey to the warehouse. 

Chapter 10 ~ A Mole

         McElroy walked into the office at about seven in the morning , in his hand was a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee from the local gas station.  He pulled off his ball cap and threw it on his desk.  Patrolman Andrew Martin stuck his head into McElroy’s office.
         “Sir about an hour ago we got a call from a lady saying she saw the two suspects.”
         McElroy yawned.  They had been getting tons of calls from people saying they saw the two fugitives.  None had paned out so far.  In a sarcastic tone McElroy replied, “Where at the Laundromat with Elvis?”  Couples often walked alone together at night, so there was no real evidence to prove this was them.
         “No sir, in her back yard.”
         McElroy spun around, wide awake without having to finish his coffee. “What time did you say she called?”
         “About six.”
         “And she saw two people in her back yard?  Where does she live, ill go check it out.”
         Martin motioned for McElroy to follow him.  Once out into the open floor space the patrolman pointed out the window.  “That’s her house right there.”  McElroy was stunned by this turn of events.  What could they have been doing here?  Ted Matthews walked up the stairs.  Him, Andrew, and McElroy were the only ones into the station this early.
         “What’s going on?” the excitable youth asked, following Ted and McElroy’s line of sight to the window he looked for anything out of the ordinary.
         “We have good reason to believe that Winsome Fletcher and Jack Gibbons were here this morning.”
         Martin spun to look at McElroy, “Sir I was here all night, long and nothing was…”  He cut his own sentence off.  Both Ted and McElroy now gave him their undivided attention.  Andrew Martin swore as he punched the nearest desk.  “They were in here.  They had to be less than twenty feet from me and I let them go.”
         McElroy tilted his head.  Andrew went on to answer the unasked question, “Early this morning I got some more coffee and saw one of the monitors on in one of the offices.  I didn’t think anything of it.  It had to have been them.”
         McElroy made his way to the office that Andrew had pointed out.  He sat down at the computer and clicked it on.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  But somehow McElroy knew they had been here.  His mind ran over all the motives for coming to the office.  Was Winsome trying to delete information on herself?  What good would that do?
Jack walked out into the main room again, where did that Ted Matthews go?  He was good with figuring things like this out.  As McElroy’s searching gaze found Ted, it also lit upon the door to Jameson’s office.  An idea skittered threw his head, calling Ted over he told him to go check out the computer for anything out of place and McElroy took a step toward Jameson’s office. 
         Thirty minutes latter the office was a buzz of activity.  Officers were coming back from patrol, filing reports of their findings, or lack there of.  Jameson was one of the last to arrive, not from being lazy but because he had stopped by and followed a potential lead on his way in.  It had turned out to be nothing but it was still worth following.  As he stepped into the office he was almost attacked by one of the younger policemen.  Jameson knew him as Andrew  Martin, Jameson had known his father, who had also been a cop.  The man was quite excited as he was explaining something about Fletcher and Gibbons. 
         Then Jameson realized what the man was saying, “They were where last night?”
         “Here in the office, over using one of the computers in the offices over there.”  Andrew pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. 
         “Why?”
         “We don’t know we have been working on it non-stop the last half an hour.”
         “Keep me updated, ill be in my office.”
         Andrew nodded and walked back to the office he had indicated.  Jameson went to his office and closed the door behind him, cutting off the noise to some extent.  Sinking into his chair he thought about this newest development.  Here?  Why would they come here?  Maybe just maybe Winsome was innocent.  He hoped with all that was in him that she was, and that Jack hadn’t done anything stupid in his quest to prove her so.  Stupid, like shoot a cop.  Jameson’s eyes ran over his desk.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  He slid his chair closer and taped on his computer.
         A woman’s voice alerted him to the fact that he had a new email.  Nothing new, till he saw the subject.  Clicking on it the following email filled his screen.
         Dear Bill, 
         This should be all you need to prove Winsome innocent.  The two men that killed Jonathan Newman, are Gavin and Luke, the only thing we know about them comes from your reports, which I have pasted on the bottom of this email.  We know them to be connected to a Paul Cohen, who we believe is ultimately behind the murder.  We do not have a motive, but we are sure that it has something to do with Jonathan’s business dealings.  We didn’t kill Gregor, or the officer they were both killed by Gavin as well.  Before he died Gregor told us his findings in the Winsome case.  He had suspicions about the policeman being in that area, as well as the anonymous call.  The largest piece of information is the fact that their was only three shots in the murder weapon.  These all point to Winsome being set up.  We believe that we have a strong enough case, but we want to talk to you in person before we turn ourselves in.  We will be at the abandoned warehouse where you impounded my truck at nine this morning.  Please come alone, as we believe one of the cops in your station is dirty.  As proof of this I left a copy of this I left a printed version of this email on your desk in clear sight.
         ~Jack Gibbons
         
         Jameson was not entirely shocked by this, he figured Jack would have left him some kind of message if he had really been in the station last night.  Checking his desk again Jameson found no sigh of the printed version Jack talked about.  He bent down and pulled the waste basket from under his desk.  Clicking off the paper shredder he looked into the small brown container.  Their was one piece of page laying in a pile of thin steps of paper.  Jameson remembered emptying this basket just before leaving for home last night.  Jack was right, he had a mole in his office.  Jameson narrows down the list of cops in his head that he could trust without reservation.  One name stood out as trust worthy.  Andrew Martin.  If he was being bribed, he wouldn’t be putting in near as many hours as he was.  He would lay low and blend in.  Not strive to be recognized as Jameson clearly saw he was.  Pushing his way out of his cushioned leather desk chair Jameson walked to the door and swinging it open let the flood of sound back into his small office.  He whistled for Andrew and motioned him into his office.  Once seated Jameson presented the hole case that was before them.  He ended with, “…so we got to find the motive behind this Paul Cohen, Why did he kill Jonathan Newman. Oh and about twenty to nine I’m going to want you to come with me to meet Jack Gibbons, and Winsome Fletcher.  Like I said don’t tell anyone any of this, till we find out who the mole is.”
         Andrew nodded his head, and left the office of Bill Jameson viewing everyone with a bit more skepticism that he had ten minutes ago.  When he got to his computer he started searching again, this time however he had a direction in which to search.  After pulling up folder after folder and looking threw page after page.  Andrew thought he had something, he kicked his chair and made his way to Jameson’s office quickly.  Once their he presented his idea of what was going on.
         “Paul Cohen had stock in the company that Jonathan worked for.  My guess is that Jonathan was checking records and found out that Cohen was extorting the company.  He must have tried to do something about it, and Cohen had him killed.  Other than that there is no connection between Jonathan and Cohen.  Anymore than any of the employees of the companies that this Cohen has stock in, which is a good number of them.”
         “Even if your guess is wrong, it gives us enough to go on.  Winsome may just be innocent.  Get your stuff, we are going to go find out.”  Andrew nodded and the two of them headed for the door.  It was about twenty minutes till the meeting.  He had a feeling that Jack and Winsome were already there. 

Chapter 11 ~ The End of All Things

         The layout of the warehouse was pretty basic.  Their were three entrances to the building.  A front door, a sliding loading door, and a side door.  The front door stood now silent where workers once bustle in and out.  That door led into the office area, their were a few offices, the office farthest back, and the most luxurious had a metal spiral staircase to the roof of the offices.  Past the offices their was a roofed off area that was used for smaller projects.  One wall of the trinket room as it was called led into the rest of the warehouse.  Which was all open space.  The trinket room, and offices formed what equaled a small box in the corner of the larger room that was the interior of the warehouse.  There was a larger wooden staircase that led to the roof of the offices that came down on the side of the trinket room.  On the main floor it was mostly empty, there was a gigantic pile of scrap metal that seemed to have been abandoned and then forgotten.  Empty and scattered cardboard boxes littered the floor.  One or two metal tables were off set near the middle of the room.  While high above them was a massive hoist crane.  Its cables hanging rusted and useless.  The windows were painted from the outside, and the only light flirted in from broken and cracked window panes.  As well as the occasional hole in the roof.  All of the above described scenery was all covered in a vale of grey dust.  If one trained in the art were to read the dust, it would tell them many stories as of late.  By the sliding load door their were two tire tracks, and multiple foot prints.  A handful of these prints meandered to all corners of the interior.  Between the larger prints were the skittering trails of spiders.  On their way to a new corner to weave another intricate web, a trap for unsuspecting flies.  Jack and Winsome stood on the roof of the offices looking down upon the dust grey barely lit landscape in front of them.  They stood, weaving a web of their own.  They had laid all the strands of their web that night.  Now they stood back to wait and see if their web would hold. 
         Winsome stood by Jack,  black shirt, blue jeans, old sneakers, and a tussled head of red hair.  She had seen herself dieing as a grandmother in a rocking chair, with two grandkids.  That seemed to be a dream that faded every hour.  With almost impending doom Jack scratched his neck, the only thought going threw his head was that he needed a shave.  That thought was quickly shoved aside however when he heard the front door handle being shaken.  He smiled, with the iron rod he had jammed threw the handle, there was no way they would be coming threw there.  Who ever was coming for him they only had one way in, the sliding door at the back of the warehouse.  With the contrast between the late morning light and the murky interior would give Jack and Winsome a good heads up on who it was that came in.  Jack clicked  his pistol off safety and aimed down the barrel and at the door.  It was mostly for show, he only had fifteen shells, and he wasn’t going to use them at this distance. 
         The back door made enough sound opening as the rusty wheels slid across the rails.  Jack closed his eyes in hopelessness.  The man that now stepped into darkness was not Jameson,  nor was man behind him.  Jack couldn’t make out facial futures, but he didn’t need to, he knew the two men as Luke and Gavin, long before he heard Winsome let out a grunt of despair. 
         Jack eyed Luke into his sights, “Don’t move or ill put hole threw your head.”
         A tormenting laugh was his only reply, “If you had the shot you would have taken it, you cant his us from their.”
         “I hit you once Gavin want to go for twice?”
         “Lucky hit, fortunately I had a flak vest on so as you can see I’m up and doing well.”
         Another voice cut threw the dark air.  This one was much closer to Jack, and directly behind him. “Don’t move! Drop the gun!” Jack had a fleeting thought that he should have jammed the front door a little better.  As he lay the pistol on the ground, he looked back to see a uniformed officer standing behind him, gun drawn.  As soon as he had let the gun fall to the wooden panel floor below him, the cop continued, “Now down the stairs, onto the main floor.”
         Winsome wide eyed tried to plead with the man, “The killers are down their they set me up I didn’t kill anyone.”
         The cop laughed as he followed them down the stairs, “I know you didn’t.  They did.”  The cop pointed with his gun at the two men immerging from the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.  Once on the main floor Jack turned to see a cop he didn’t know, not McElroy as he had expected.
         Luke sheathed his gun,  “Good Job, Matthews.”
         “Thanks, these two almost screwed everything up again.  That stunt of breaking into the station and all that.  Luckily I was able to get the letter of Jameson’s desk and shred it before anyone found it.”  Winsome couldn’t stop moan, not knowing that Jack had sent the email to Jameson as well.  The looking at the cop again she saw him as the same one that found her the night of the murder.  That resolved one puzzle piece.  Jack started to curse out the cop that had betrayed his own town, brothers, and friends.  But Luke cut him off by slamming his fist into the side of Jack’s head.  This brought a smile to the sadistic killers face. “I have really wanted to do that for awhile now.”
         Gavin piped in, “You know what I was thinking?  I was thinking how much of a tragedy it would be if Winsome shot Jack, then killed herself doing what she could see as the only right thing.  There was even a cop to witness the ordeal.  What a shame indeed.”  He laughed and cambered a round into his pistol.  “You have been a royal pain in the…” 
         Two knew figures rushed into the room,  both holding guns raised.  Jack smiled, “Whoops I forgot to mention to you that I emailed the cops as well, hope you don’t mind.”  Gavin realized that all hope of getting out of this clean has just gone out the window.  He turned and fired the shell meant for Jack at Jameson and Andrew who were taking cover.  Jack pointed to the side door and yelled for Winsome to run, as he pushed himself up and jumped for Ted Matthews who was still confused as to what was going on.  Jack collided with him and they fell to the ground.  With Jack and Ted on the ground battling for control of the pistol, there was enough confusion that Winsome ran for the side door.  Luke saw the movement out of the side with his peripheral vision and turned pointing his gun at the running figure in front of him he pulled the trigger.  Blood splattered into the dust, Winsome’s momentum carried her forward another five feet before she slid into the dust.  A line of dribbling blood trailed back behind her.  Luke smiled at his lucky shot, he hadn’t really had time to even aim.   
         Jack wrenched the gun from Matthew’s hands and using it as a club smacked him upside the head.  Jack looked to the side door to see if Winsome made it out okay.  He saw her lying on the ground, not halfway to the door.  Luke still had his gun leveled in her direction, a smoke was seeping from the barrel.
         Luke turned back toward the back of the warehouse.  His eyes met Jack’s a sense of dread griped him.  His view of Jack was blurred my a bright flash of light followed by what seemed like someone punching him in the gut, three more flashes were the last things that Luke would ever see.
         Jack ran past the dead body of Luke, sliding to his knees beside Winsome.  Rolling her onto her back, a gasp escaped her.  Looking down Jack saw her wound, the bullet had passed threw the calf of her leg, and the shock of running on it had knocked her unconscious. She was still out cold, but with the blood that was seeping threw her jeans, Jack knew that it would only be a matter of time till her unconscious sleep, turned into a permanent condition.  Jack checked his gun and headed back into the fight.
         Jameson hunkered lower behind the chuck of metal he leaned against.  Sparks flew as a bullet slammed into the metal above his head.  As soon as he had seen the layout of the building he had sent Andrew around to come in the front door.  Matthew had seen this coming however and had run into the office rooms before Andrew could get around the building.  Jameson didn’t know what was going on in the offices, all he cold here was the occasional pistol crack coming from beyond the three walled room.  That left Jameson to deal with Gavin.  A good aim, but cocky, all Jameson had to do was wait for his perfect chance.  He heard silence emanating for Gavin’s position.  He had to be reloading or moving positions, ether one gave Jameson a good chance at getting the jump on him.  As Jameson looked out from his hiding spot, he desperately searched for Gavin, the goon was nowhere to be seen.  A click from behind him was his only warning.  He had time to say, “You’re a tricky son of…” before a shell slammed into his back, sending him sprawling on the ground.  Another shell passed threw his shoulder blade, before Gavin left him for dead and ran out threw the sliding back door. 
         Andrew found himself pinned behind a desk, as Ted Matthews laughed and took potshots at the desk.  Andrew knew it was only a matter of time till he got lucky with a shot and then it was all over.  Taking off his shoe he threw it out from behind the desk to the left, while jumping to his right.  Three blind shots were all he got off.  When he landed and looked he couldn’t see any sign of Matthews.  Getting to his feet he scanned the room again.  It was cop against cop, both knew all the moves all the procedures.  It was a chess came from here on out, the game ended with one of them dead.  One foot felt the thin cheep carpet.  His heart racing with to much adrenaline to process the thought.  Moving slowly and deliberately Andrew walked toward the main office.  Two doors were between him and the entrance to the office.  One of them was open the other wasn’t.  If he made any sound it would alert Matthews and it would be game over.  Andrew froze, he was thinking like a cop, he was following the rules.  Matthews knew the rules.  Andrew took a deep breath and ran as fast as he could past the two doors, crashing into the closed office door.  The old hinges bust free and Andrew flew into the office in a shower of splinters, and broken door pieces.  Bullets were quickly added to the list of things that were hurtling threw the open space of the room.  Andrew didn’t have time to focus, just fire in the general direction of Matthews.  A tremendous crash plunged the small room into silence.  No more shots.  Just heavy breathing and a dripping sound.  Matthews fell to his knees, coughing blood.  Andrew pushed himself up from the scattered wood pieces.  Ted Matthews was swaying, not long for this world.  Andrew watched with a since of regret that a friendship had come to an end like this, and a overwhelming sense of anger and hate for what ever had caused Matthews to betray his friends.  Andrew walked out of the room, no time for thoughts of regret now.  As he stepped warily back onto the main floor he saw a man and a woman sprawled on the ground to his left, and another man kneeling over a third sprawled body.  Andrew then recognized the kneeling man as Jack Gibbons and the sprawling body beneath him as Bill Jameson.  Andrew holstered his gun and ran to the aid of his friend and fellow officer.  As he reached Jameson he saw flashing lights piercing the painted windows.  He left the two men and ran out the door, to get a medic.  As he exited the building he saw McElroy with one knee on Gavin’s back, who was face down in the gravel, blood steaming from his nose.  Once McElroy had cuffed him he pulled him to his feet and threw him in the back of his patrol car.  An ambulance was just rounding the corner of the building, lights flashing and breaks now screeching. 
         Jack Gibbons sat in the ambulance while Winsome Fletcher lay on a gurney. 
         She looked and in a week voice she managed to say,  “Jack, I just want you to know one thing…”
         Jack knelt by her with a sense of fear.
         Winsome smile and in a perfectly normal voice finisher her sentence, “You look like crap.”