News trucks lined the main road beyond the school parking lot. The entrances had been blocked off by a couple police cruisers. Good call on someone’s part. A few reporters who were hell bent on getting the story first made the rest of the journey on foot. It seemed every ten feet they encountered another line of cops whose purpose was to keep them away. Our forces on site had doubled since Sam and I went inside the school building. Philly’s finest were all on site. The killer and the kids were anywhere but here.
We used the fire trucks to shield us from view as we made our way to my car. Once I had it in sight, I said, “Toss me my keys.”
“I’m driving,” Sam said. “You’re too worked up.”
I felt my blood boil. My ears burned. Maybe he had a point. “Fine, whatever. We need to get there before those other pricks do.”
He glanced at me through narrow eyes. “Horace and Fairchild?”
“Yeah. Got a feeling Huff has some kind of deal worked out with them. Notice how they get all the gravy assignments, and then how he brought them in on the Miller murder?”
Sam stood on the other side of the car. He shrugged and said, “You worry too much about that stuff, Mitch. Everyone is not out to get you, man.”
Perhaps his words were meant to provide a moment of clarity amid a chaotic situation.
If so, they did not have the intended effect.
Sam got in, fired up the engine, turned on the lights and hit the sirens. It took us longer to get out of the congested parking lot than it did to travel the next three miles. The traffic again parted for us as best as one could expect near lunchtime. Sam still had to dodge the odd vehicle or pedestrian. Ignorance never failed to show its face.
McCree’s house was in Drexel Hill, a few miles to the west. He lived in a single story ranch with a brick front and gray siding around the side. The yard looked well maintained with trimmed shrubs and a few remaining flowers in the flowerbeds. We drove past the house and parked a block away. The squad cars couldn’t do that. Be a dead giveaway to anyone inside.
Huff walked up to our car and waited without saying anything. A couple minutes later Horace and Fairchild pulled up and got out of their city issued Chevy, identical to mine.
“What the hell are they doing here?” I said to Huff.
“You want to go in there alone?” Huff said. “Be my guest. Get your head shot off playing hero.”
Either Horace or Fairchild laughed. I couldn’t tell. By the time I glanced over at them they’d stopped and both had serious looks on their faces. I’d gotten into it with both of them at one time or another. They quickly learned they wanted no part of me, especially with Sam at my back.
“We lead,” I said. “And we go now.” I started down the sidewalk toward the house.
“What the hell are you doing?” Huff called after me. “We don’t have anyone in back to cut them off if they escape.”
“Send those two assholes,” I said.
Now, deep down I knew I had acted irrationally. The most important thing at that time should have been the kids. And by walking up there and announcing our presence, I risked putting them in danger. If they were there, of course. We still didn’t know that. There was no van, no big F-250. Just a ‘90s model red two-door Honda Civic parked in the driveway. The passenger side of the car looked beat to hell. Tint peeled away from the edges of the rear windows.
Sam caught up to me. “What the hell you doing, Mitch?”
“Forget those guys,” I said. “This goes down, it’ll be their faces in the papers, not ours.”
“Is that what this is really about, man?” He grabbed my shoulder and turned me toward him. “You want some recognition? Really?”
He knew I didn’t. Truth was we were in the middle of a turf war. Since the arrival of Huff, our turf had been shrinking by the week. At least, that’s how I felt.
“No,” I finally relented.
“Okay, then. Let’s be smart about this. Wait until those guys are in position and we have some backup squads positioned at the end of this street as well as the parallel streets.”
I started to walk back toward Huff and the other two detectives. “How long till the backup squads get here?”
“En route now, Tanner,” Huff replied in a subdued manner while avoiding eye contact. “Be in position any minute.”
“Okay,” I said, and then I pointed at Horace and Fairchild. “Get those two in position.”
Huff nodded and gestured toward the street that ran behind the house. “Get going you two. Let us know when you’re about to breach the backyard.”
Both men shot me a look that said they wanted to argue, but they bit their tongue and did what Huff told them. Those guys weren’t dumb enough to bite the hand that fed them. I, on the other hand, made it my goal in life.
“Get going,” Huff said to us. “You know the drill from here out.”
We did, so we started moving. We didn’t bother with the sidewalk, instead cutting across lawns to stay out of view of the house. Angry faces watched us through drawn blinds and open front doors. I could read their minds. “What are these two big dudes doing running through my lawn!” Imagine their surprise when we pulled our Glocks from our holsters.
“Stop,” Sam said, extending his arm out in front of me like I was a little kid and he’d hit the brakes too hard. “Wait for confirmation.”
“You know what I think of confirmation, Sam?”
“I know, man. Doesn’t change anything though. Be patient. Be one with the—”
Huff’s voice came over the radio, saving me from the Tao of Sam. “Sam, Tanner, go now.”
“Works for me,” I said. I’d reached the porch before Sam began moving. I wrapped my hand around the knob and gave it a turn. To my surprise, I found it unlocked. I turned it all the way and then pushed the door open an inch.
“Got you covered,” Sam said from behind me.
I squatted and pushed the door open a bit further. My pistol led the way from that point on. Working as a team, we cleared the first room. From there we had two choices. It looked like the kitchen was to the left, through the dining room. In the open space before us was an empty great room with a hall that I figured led to the bedrooms.
We heard a scream that came from the hallway. Sounded female. A little girl had been taken. We didn’t bother to check out the kitchen.
Sam relayed the development over the radio. I expected Horace and Fairchild to burst through the sliding glass door at the back of the house at any moment. They didn’t, at least not at that point. We rushed down the darkened hallway. There were three open doors and one closed one. We quickly cleared each room in search of the children. I hoped we’d find both, and that they’d be abandoned. Let us end their ordeal. All the rooms were empty, though. We were faced with one final room. The one with the closed door. Sam and I stood in front of it, shoulder to shoulder.
“On my count,” I whispered.
Sam nodded.
“One, two,” I didn’t get to three. Sam cut me off and kicked the door open.
We found Assistant Principal McCree inside the room. There weren’t any children in there, though. It turned out the source of the scream had been a woman in her mid-twenties. The owner of the Civic, I presumed. She laid on the bed, spread eagle, naked, with McCree hovering over her.