Free Jamie Garrett - Riley Reid 02 - Fire and Lies by Jamie Garrett Page B

decided to take me out rather than try to outrun me.

    I saw the man draw a pistol. He turned and fired at me while still running, albeit at a slower pace. Dodging bullets is impossible, despite what action movies would like you to believe. Trying to dodge bullets while running full speed is stupid. That didn’t stop me from trying.

    I tried to duck. My balance was thrown off. The wrist I tried to brace my fall with wasn’t up to the task. Sharp pain took all strength out of the joint and tendons. Again I found myself on the ground, or in that case, the concrete. It was much less forgiving than the dirt and pine needles of the hill.

    When I looked up, the man kept running towards an intersection. He was going to get away. And I was lying in the street, unable to do anything about it. It pissed me off. I was sick of being their target.

    Like an angel driving a ton of metal on wheels, Sam’s car came speeding down the road. He wasn’t on the same road as I was, but driving down the one that crossed it at the intersection. I heard a thud as his car and the man collided. Needless to say, the car won. The man rolled up onto the hood and into the windshield.

    Sam stopped his car and got out with his Beretta drawn. “Don’t move a fucking muscle!”

    I picked myself up off the road. My wrist was in bad shape. The adrenaline had worn off. With its passing, my whole body started to ache. Both of my legs felt like wet noodles. About twenty steps later, walking became a test of my willpower.

    Sam put his knee into the back of the man. He took out a pair of zip tie handcuffs and applied them. Then he picked the man up by his shirt collar.

    “You gotta be kidding me.” I could hear Sam, even though I still had a ways to go to meet up with him.

    “What!?” I yelled, forgetting about my sore throat. As soon as I felt the vibrations from my shouting, I remembered.

    Sam didn’t answer. He wanted me to see for myself.

    I could see the lights from a police car. Red and blue bathed Sam and the man I had been chasing. The back-up that Sam called for must’ve finally arrived.

    When I reached Sam, he had already but the man in the back of his car. It was hard to make out who it was with the glass reflecting all the police lights. Nothing could have prepared me for his real identity.

    “Who is he?” I asked Sam.

    “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” replied Sam. “This one you gotta see for yourself.”

    I limped over to his car and got a better look. There, in the backseat with a large gash on his face, was Pastor Pritchard. Sam was right. I wouldn’t have believed him. The pastor was one of the kindest men I had ever known. And minutes before, he had shot at me.

    “This doesn’t make any sense,” I said, mostly talking to myself while taking a couple of steps back. “Why would the pastor do this?”

    “Beats me. I found some interesting stuff back at the Branches’. You want to ride with me back there? Or do you want to walk?” That was vintage Sam. He defused the situation with a little humor.

    “You’re such a dick,” I laughed while limping over to the passenger side front seat of his car.

    “Love you, too.”

    During the short ride back to the Branch residence I kept looking in the rearview mirror at Pastor Pritchard. He was looking down at his feet, in shame. What could have possibly motivated him to try and kill me? And did he take out Robert and Destiny Branch? It was almost too unthinkable to even consider.

    When we arrived back at the meth house, there were two more police cars. To my surprise, Stone Harbor Police Chief Mark Owens was there waiting for us. He was smoking a cigarette, which he threw down and stomped out upon seeing us get out of the vehicle.

    “Where the hell did you go, Greyson? You’re our only detective and the only one on the scene and there are two dead bodies in there.” Chief Owens’s voice was weathered from forty years of heavy smoking. His body was