Goddess of Justice Dwayne Clayden (i read book .TXT) 📖

blinked his eyes several times as if that would clear his head. He was in some kind of fashion hell. He grabbed a glass of water off the night table and drained it.

Shit.

It hit him. He was at Sadie’s. Oh shit. What time was it? He didn’t have his watch. He glanced at the alarm clock on the night table. It was nine in the morning. How had he slept this long? He glanced around for his newly acquired clothes. They weren’t in the room. He glanced under the sheets. At least he still had his boxers. He wrapped a sheet around his shoulders and stumbled to the door. He peeked outside.

Sadie was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing the Calgary Stampeders T-shirt and gray sweatpants, drinking coffee, reading the paper, listening to the radio news and watching the TV. How he’d slept through all that, he didn’t know.

“Uh, good morning.”

Sadie swung around. “Well, good morning, sunshine. We can have breakfast together and I don’t have to stalk you.”

“I seem to be missing my clothes.”

“Oh, that. I washed them and ironed them, including the socks.”

“Are you kidding?”

She sneered. “Yeah, I ironed nothing. I don’t iron. That’s what the dry cleaners are for. But I washed your stuff. They had a street odor to them. You’ll find them in the bathroom.” She pointed down the hall. “Consider a shower, as well.” She went back to her coffee and paper.

Brad leaned onto the counter and stared at the mirror. He looked like shit. He must have slept at least six, maybe seven hours. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. After taking care of the toilet business, he started the shower. He let the warm water energize his neck, shoulders and down his back. He thought he heard a noise outside the shower. He peeked around the curtain. Nothing. It must have been his imagination. Then he thought about the shit he was in. No room in his brain for anything other than clearing his name.

Reluctantly, he shut off the water. He stepped out of the shower and toweled off. At first, he thought he could use a shave. Then he realized that it would add to his disguise. It would get better every day.

He dressed and headed down the hall. Sadie pointed to a mug. “Coffee for you.”

Brad sat and grabbed the coffee.

Sadie increased the volume on the TV. “It’s been on every hour since about 2:00 a.m.” The screen said, News Update. The morning news anchor came on. “Good morning. We have a news update from last night. Sadie Andrus is reporting.”

“Last night I received information that Detective Brad Coulter was wanted by his own police department for murder, and that a city-wide manhunt was underway.”

The screen switched to the scene by the lane at Brad’s house.

“Last night we were at Detective Coulter’s house just outside the city limits. We were confronted by RCMP ERT members who denied us entry to the house and refused to tell us what was happening.”

The video switched to the confrontation with TSU.

They watched the report in silence. Brad sipped his coffee “How long have you been awake?”

“Since about five-thirty.”

“That’s less than five hours sleep.”

She nodded and stared at him. “It wasn’t much of a sleep. Finally, I got up and stared at my phone. I reconsidered. Well, a career clarity moment. I needed to turn you in.”

He nodded. “So, the cops will be here any minute?”

Sadie set her coffee mug on the table, then chewed her upper lip. “You never tried to stop me.”

“Would it have helped?”

She shook her head. “No. If you’d tried, that would have settled it for me. You’d be dressed in orange.”

“I don’t think that’s my color.”

Sadie held her coffee with both hands. “No, I don’t think so either.” She stared at her coffee. “There’s one more thing.”

Brad sat back in his chair, feeling relaxed for the first time in twenty-four hours. “What’s that?”

“When I called the station this morning, I heard something. I don’t know how to tell you.”

Brad shrugged. “Just spit it out.”

Sadie licked her lips. “A reporter I know heard Sergeant Sturgeon say ballistics from at least two of the murders were matched to your gun.”

Brad swung forward in his chair, spilled his coffee, and his jaw dropped. “That’s not … I mean … no way.”

Sadie squeezed her body as far back in the chair as she could, eyes wide.

Brad sat, frozen to the spot. Now what? “I need to get my gang together.”

“Your gang? I’m sure you don’t mean the Keystone Cops. Everyone you know except me is a cop. They can’t help you. You told me they were all being watched. If they helped you, they’d be guilty of … well, I don’t know exactly what. Assisting a fugitive or something. They’d lose their jobs.”

Brad nodded. “They might, but that’s their decision and I’ll respect whatever they decide.”

Chapter Forty-One

Annie woke to the ringing. She swung her legs off the bed and into her slippers. She grabbed her housecoat and headed out of her room. The living room was littered with snoring cops. They’d talked until well after two in the morning. Couldn’t one of them have answered the phone? She stepped over and around them and into the kitchen. She lifted the receiver off the wall.

“Hello.” She hoped she’d hear Brad’s voice.

“Good morning. Is this Annie?”

Annie glanced around the kitchen, like she’d see the person calling. She shook her head. “Yes, who is this?”

“We haven’t met. I’m Sadie. I met a best friend of yours last night. Sissy.”

Annie gasped. Her knees buckled. She slid into a chair. Sissy was the girl held captive with Annie in the biker’s clubhouse. She was the girl who Jeter Wolfe had raped before he kidnapped Annie.

Annie and Sissy had escaped together, and what they knew helped take down the biker gangs. With the love and support of Brad and Maggie, Annie had overcome that nightmare. Sissy hadn’t been as lucky. Sissy was dead. Annie wasn’t shocked