Killing time, Emory counted the seconds it took each of his visible breaths to dissipate as he waited on the roof of the Godfrey Tower for the murderer to arrive. Anticipation stilled the air, although he could almost hear the blood pulsing from his anxious heart. A sudden gust of wind preceded clanging. He looked up to see the flagpole had been repaired, and the Stars and Stripes now waved at him from forty feet above. Behind it along one edge of the roof rose the billboard, still emblazoned with the advertisement for Mourning Dove Investigations.
He heard the door to the roof creak open. He watched as the killer soft-shoed it to the flagpole – the place where Corey had been thrown from the roof.
Emory stepped from behind the ventilation system and held up a cell phone. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
The killer jumped when he heard his voice. “Emory. I was just coming up for some fresh air.”
“We know it was you, Luke.”
Luke Hinter squinted and smiled at him. “What are you talking about?”
“When the sheriff called you to pick up your aunt, you said it was the first time you stepped foot in Brume Wood since you were a toddler. You must’ve seen her collection of charms.” Emory was now wearing the charm necklace Ms. Mary Belle had given Jeff, and he held up the rock for Luke to see.
“What about it? It’s gravel.”
Emory let the rock drop back to his chest. “But you know it’s not just gravel. You told me yourself you started out as a geology major before your parents made you switch to finance.”
Luke laughed. “I took a few classes like five years ago. I don’t remember any of that.”
“I might’ve believed you didn’t recognize them as zinc ore if I hadn’t seen you toting the shiny new silver case behind you that day. You said it was your aunt’s, but I’ve seen her belongings. She doesn’t own anything from the past three decades.”
“I bought her that suitcase to put her stuff in.”
“But it wasn’t a suitcase. It was a carrying case for your drone.”
Luke pulled a knife from his pocket. “I’m going to need that phone.”
“A switchblade?” Jeff appeared above them, standing on the ventilation system and aiming his blue-barreled PD10 handgun at the knife-wielder. “Seriously? Who carries around a switchblade?”
Luke pointed the knife at Jeff, although the roof of the ventilation system was seven feet above he stood. “Always be prepared.”
“So Boy Scouts.” Jeff nodded at Emory, who pocketed the phone and pulled out his pistol. “Actually, I owe you a beatdown for loosening the lug nuts on my tires.” He holstered his gun and headed for the ladder attached to the wall of the ventilation system.
Emory said, “He also loosened Becky’s tire when he was trying to convince Corey to change his mind about which property to take.”
“He should’ve heeded the warning. Luckily for his replacement, his wife’s a greedy bitch.”
Jeff stepped onto the ventilation system’s ladder. “So you did pay Lettie to make her husband switch properties.”
Luke threw his knife into the shoulder of Emory’s gun-toting arm.
“Ahhh!” Emory dropped the gun and threw his other hand to his shoulder, clenching it around the knife’s hilt.
Luke grabbed Emory’s gun as soon as it hit the ground.
“Emory!” Jeff jumped from the ladder and rushed to his partner’s aid.
Luke aimed the gun at Jeff, stopping him a few feet from Emory. “Back up! Now!”
Jeff complied, while Emory pulled the knife from his shoulder and let it clunk to the floor.
“Take your gun out. Slowly. And slide it to me.”
Again Jeff complied.
Luke picked up Jeff’s gun and pushed it inside his belt. “No one was supposed to investigate Corey’s death. It should’ve looked like a suicide. He was so light. I couldn’t believe how far out he flew. I didn’t see the rope from the flagpole he’d wrapped around his wrist. I knew that was going to be a problem.” Luke pulled a chicken-bone doll from his jacket and leaned it against the flagpole.
Emory told him, “I know you wanted to give credence to your aunt’s curses, but those are actually for good luck.”
Luke shrugged. “No matter. They fed the fear.”
Jeff glanced at the blood coursing down Emory’s right sleeve before setting his eyes on Luke. “What do you plan to do now? You can’t make this look like an accident.”
“I don’t intend to. I have both your guns. You two came up here to investigate the case, and you got into a spat. Things elevated, and you shot each other.”
Jeff laughed. “No one’s going to believe that!”
Luke responded, “I saw you two together the other night.” He nodded to Emory. “You were wearing a cowboy hat.”
“That was in my apartment. How did you see that?” Right after Emory asked the question, the answer hit him. “You were watching us with the drone.”
“Domestic disputes are always the deadliest.” Luke pointed Emory’s gun at its owner. “Now give me the phone.”
Emory retrieved the phone from his pocket as Luke extended his free hand to receive it. Instead, Emory tossed it to Jeff.
As soon as Luke turned his eyes to Jeff, Emory lunged for him, pushing him back against the railing along the edge of the roof. The PI banged his wrist against the railing until the gun fell to the sidewalk thirty-two stories below.
Jeff ran to tackle Luke just as the killer punched Emory in his injured shoulder. Emory grabbed at the pain, allowing Luke to jump away from the railing. Jeff hit the railing full force, almost falling over it.
Luke kicked Emory in the mouth, causing his back to slam into the flagpole. He grabbed the lapels of Emory’s jacket and flung him toward the edge.
Emory reached for the flagpole to try regaining his balance, but it wasn’t enough. His fingers could only lock around the flagpole rope as momentum carried him to the very edge and over.
“No!!” Jeff screamed.
The flagpole rope was in one continuous loop all the way to the top of the flagpole and down, with several feet of slack at the bottom. Now clinging to the bottom loop of the rope with both hands, Emory looked up to see Jeff’s head and right arm protruding from the edge of the rooftop.
“Emory! Grab my hand!”
Emory stretched for his partner’s hand. Their fingers touched just before the rope slipped and the dangling PI fell beyond reach.
“Emory!” Jeff looked over his shoulder and saw Luke cutting the rope at the flagpole with his bloody switchblade. The frayed section of the rope had snapped, changing the loop into one long line of rope. The snaphooks that secured the flag caught in the metal pulley at the top of the flagpole, anchoring one end of the rope, but the other end was now loose, and Emory was sliding down to meet it.
Emory’s hand had been locked into the bottom of the rope loop, but with the loop now broken, he had only his grip on the rope to keep him from plunging to the sidewalk below. His hold on the thin line, however, was not enough to keep him in place. The rope burned the palms of his hands as he continued to slide down the extra forty feet of rope that had snaked over the edge of the roof.
With ten feet remaining before he would slide to the end of the rope, Emory stopped his downward slide. It took every ounce of strength in his hands and forearms to maintain his grip, but he knew holding on would not be good enough. He would have to climb.
Watching from above, Jeff sighed a bit of relief when he saw Emory holding steady. He pushed back from the railing to see Luke about to cut the rest of the rope. Jeff held the phone up. “Luke! Back away, and I’ll give you the phone.”
Luke released the rope and took two steps back. Instead of handing him the phone, Jeff threw it up to the billboard. It hit Emory’s picture before coming to rest on the narrow catwalk in front of the sign.
Luke pocketed the knife and bolted for the catwalk ladder, which ran up alongside the middle post of the billboard.
Emory started climbing the rope to get back on the roof. When he lifted the soles of his shoes to glass, however, he realized it wasn’t glass at all. It was plywood. This is where Corey Melton crashed through the window and died. They haven’t replaced the glass!
Sure enough, there was glass all around except for the square of wood on which his feet now rested. I might be able to break through the wood!
Emory held the rope with one hand so he could wrap it around his other wrist to provide some stability. He jumped off the wood, sending his body swinging out two feet from the building like a narrow pendulum. When he started swinging back to the building, he put his feet together to concentrate the force. The wood shuddered when he hit it, but it didn’t break.
This isn’t going to work unless I hit it with more force. Emory kicked off the wood with greater strength, but the wood still didn’t break when he swung back.
Emory was sweating nonstop now, including his palms. He tightened his aching hands. I’ve got to go for it!
He kicked off with all his strength, and he flew almost ten feet from the building. When he swung back, he clenched his entire body to make himself the stiffest projectile possible. His feet rammed through the wood, splintering a big enough hole for him to fly through. His body slammed to the office floor, just shy of where Corey had landed a week earlier.
The office employees flocked around him. Some screamed while others asked, “Is he dead?”
Jeff rushed to rescue his partner, but no one was hanging from the rope. “Emory! Where are you?!” Even though he couldn’t see a body on the sidewalk below, he knew Emory must’ve fallen.
As tears blurred his eyes, he clenched his fists and screamed at Luke, who was now scurrying along the catwalk in front of the billboard, “I’m going to kill you!”
Jeff darted for the ladder to the billboard catwalk and grabbed the bottom rung with a single leap. As he climbed, he looked above and below and realized one end of the billboard protruded over the side of the building. He crawled onto the catwalk just as Luke picked up the cell phone and pocketed it.
Jeff ran and punched him, sending him flying backwards onto the catwalk. He jumped onto Luke’s torso and punched him over and over again.
Luke reached into his pocket to retrieve his switchblade, and he sliced Jeff’s forearm.
Jeff retreated a few steps as Luke climbed back to his feet. “You’re wasting your time, Luke. That’s Emory’s cell phone. There was no recording.”
“I don’t believe you.” Luke tossed the phone over the side of the catwalk and didn’t watch as it plummeted to the sidewalk. He plodded toward Jeff, slicing the air with each step.
Jeff backed up until he couldn’t back up anymore. He glanced down. Between the grates of the metal catwalk, he could see the sidewalk thirty-two stories below.
Luke grinned at his cornered prey. He held the knife over his head and lunged for Jeff.
Jeff ducked, and the blade stabbed the billboard – right into Emory’s torso in the picture. Luke lost his footing and slipped off the catwalk. His grip on the knife’s hilt was the only thing keeping him from falling to his death.
Jeff hesitated before reaching for him. “Give me your hand!”
Luke held up his free hand. The knife in his other hand slipped and continued cutting a path down the billboard. The knife’s downward slicing stopped for a second when it hit the metal frame until the blade dislodged altogether.
Helpless, Jeff watched while Luke flailed at the air before thudding against the sidewalk.
Emory had slammed open the door to the roof just in time to see Luke’s plunge.