Free Fugitive Justice by Rayven T. Hill

always panhandle for an hour or two and scrounge you up a few dollars if you’d like.”
    “That would be great, but forget the money,” Jake said. “Just the clothes and a bike are good. And I’ll make it up to you, Sammy.”
    “No, you won’t. I know for a fact you and Annie give money to the mission every month, and what you do for them, you do for me and others less fortunate than me.” He gave Jake a mock scowl. “So you won’t mention that again.”
    Jake grinned. “Duly noted.”
    “Then let me get on my way, and I’ll be back quicker than a jackrabbit.”
    “There’s one more thing, Sammy.”
    “Sure.”
    “The guy who shot Mrs. Overstone looked to me like a good-for-nothing hood. Probably known among some of the seedier elements of the city.” Jake paused and shrugged. “You helped me dig up the hiding place of a jailbird before. I thought maybe you might be able to help again this time.”
    “We’ll talk about that when I get back,” Sammy said. “I got people everywhere. Some smart, some not so smart, but if I have something to go on and ask enough questions, we might be able to track him down.”
    “I really appreciate this, Sammy.”
    “Well, it’s not just for you. It’s for me and mine as well. Anytime you rid the streets of lowlife scumbags, it makes it safer for all of us.” Sammy stood. “Just relax and don’t worry. I got your back.” He turned and strode up the riverbank.
    Jake watched until his friend disappeared from view. Hank knew Sammy from a past case, and he hoped the cop wouldn’t think of looking him up.
    But he knew Hank had a job to do; finding Jake was his duty. Given their friendship, he prayed Hank would be a little less eager to do that task in a timely manner, allowing Jake some freedom to track down the real criminal.
    As soon as Sammy came back, he had to find a way to contact Annie. He had no doubt his wife would be under scrutiny from the police, and he didn’t want to compromise her freedom in any way.
    That was the last thing either one of them could afford to have happen.

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 13
     
     
     
    Tuesday, 3:12 p.m.
     
    HANK POPPED THE LID off the container of physical evidence gathered at the scene of the shooting of Merrilla Overstone. He sat at his desk and tipped the box toward him, studying the articles it contained.
    Along with Jake’s personal effects and Merrilla’s cell phone, the items of most interest to him were the pistol and the bullet it had fired. He took the bag containing the weapon from the box and turned it over in his hands.
    The gun was a .22-caliber semiautomatic Beretta, one of their cheaper models, but readily available on the streets at double or triple its retail value. If you had enough money and the desire to acquire them, weapons of all kinds could easily be obtained on the black market.
    Hank pulled a file folder toward him and browsed through the information obtained from the hospital via an earlier phone call. Preliminary data indicated Mrs. Overstone had suffered a penetrating chest wound, and the bullet had lodged in her chest wall. According to word Hank had gotten, surgery to remove the bullet had been successful, and though the victim had suffered severe trauma, she’d been given a good chance of survival.
    Hank reached into the box and removed an evidence bag containing the bullet extracted from the victim. He hadn’t been surprised when the ballistics report had confirmed the weapon used to kill the woman at the bank was the same one used to shoot Merrilla Overstone.
    Though they were separate incidents, the shooting of Mrs. Overstone and the bank robbery were not only related, they were bound together by a single item—a weapon.
    If Jake had indeed robbed the Commerce Bank, there was no doubt he was also responsible for the attempted murder of Mrs. Overstone.
    Hank was struggling to come up with a motive. The shooting of Merrilla Overstone was a direct consequence of the bank robbery,