“I know you’re a jerk,” I tell him. “I know jerks like you need to be taught a lesson.”
“No.” His eyes narrow into a glare as he takes another step forward. “You’re the one who needs to be taught a lesson.”
He tries to disarm me but his foot slips. I seize the opportunity to pin his arm behind his back and push him towards the ground. Then, before he can struggle any more, I hit the back of his head with my gun. His head falls. His face crashes into the grass and his body grows limp.
I put my gun away and wipe the sweat from my forehead.
That was close.
“Leo!” The woman rushes to his side as I get back on my feet.
To my surprise, she glares at me.
“You killed him,” she accuses me, hatred dripping from her words.
Why is she angry? Shouldn’t she be relieved? Shouldn’t she be thanking me?
“I didn’t,” I tell her. Maybe I went a bit too far, though. “He’ll live, but he shouldn’t hurt you anymore. If you call the cops…”
“What the hell is going on here?” Eileen appears in front of me.
Oh, good. Maybe she can talk some sense into this woman.
Or not. I realize she cares about Leo when she looks at him and her features twist in alarm. She kneels beside him and checks his pulse.
“Like I said, I didn’t kill him,” I repeat.
Eileen glares at me. “What did you do to him?”
She’s mad at me, too? I don’t understand. I’m not the enemy here.
“He was trying to hurt her,” I explain as I glance at the other woman. “And he was planning on hurting me, so…”
“Go away,” Eileen tells me in an icy tone as she looks away.
Didn’t she hear what I just said? Wait. Is she his mother? Even so, if he did something wrong, he should be punished. Other women could get hurt.
“I – ”
“I told you to leave, didn’t I?” Eileen tells me over her shoulder. “Now, leave. Leave this place. Leave town. Don’t ever show your face here again.”
She carries the man in her arms and brings him inside. The other woman follows her after sending a final scornful glare in my direction.
What is wrong with her? What is wrong with both of them?
I think about calling the cops anyway, but with Eileen and the victim against me and the man unconscious, the story could turn. I decide to leave. I have to take a moment to calm myself down, though, before I drive.
What was with that? I was just trying to help, just doing the right thing. Why am I the bad guy?
It’s people like them who I can’t stand the most – people who see injustice or are victims of it but refuse to fight. People who don’t want to accept help when they clearly need it. It’s because of them that bad people get away.
What if everyone here’s like that? If so, I won’t get any help. Maybe I really should just leave town and forget about Cain.
Just then, my phone rings. I answer the call because it’s from Taylor.
“Do you have something good?” I ask him. “Because I think I’m at a dead end.”
“I don’t know if it’s good,” Taylor says. “But that guy Cain fought with at that club in Toledo? His name is Hugh Benning and he grew up in the same town in Iowa as Cain Swinton did before he went missing.”
They know each other?
“Also, he’s out of the hospital and in jail now,” Taylor adds.
Which means he can talk now.
I guess I should go over there and ask him what he knows about Cain. There’s nothing for me here anyway. Besides, I still have some other questions for him.
~
“Who sent you to kill me, Hugh?” I ask Hugh once we’re alone in the interrogation room.
I don’t have my badge, but I still have some connections, so I was able to get some time with him.
“I don’t go by that name anymore,” he says. “Call me Nero.”
“Fine.” I lean forward. “Who sent you to kill me, Nero?”
He leans back in his chair and shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I don’t believe that one bit.
“I really don’t know. I got a call and then some money. I don’t know who sent it.”
“And you always accept money from people you don’t know?” I ask.
“Usually,” Nero answers. “I didn’t accept this job just for the money, though.”
“Really?” I grip the edges of my jacket as I lean back. “Why else did you accept this job?”
He grins. “Cain Archer.”
That piques my interest. I sit up.
“How do you know Cain?”
Nero shrugs. “I’m just a fan.”
My eyebrows crease because I don’t understand. Cain isn’t an actor or an athlete. Why would he have a fan?
“You’ve known him long?” I ask curiously.
“His house was right around the corner from mine,” Nero tells me. “I saw him a few times before he left.”