Chapter 4 - Room Seventeen
Detective Beck did not take Sarge on the raid.
He threatened to arrest him if he followed.
Sarge responded by driving to within two blocks of the abandoned motel and parking behind a closed gas station.
Mara sat in the passenger seat.
“This is the worst decision I have made in twelve years of nursing,” she muttered.
“You didn’t have to come.”
“Yes, I did. Because without supervision, you would charge through the front door like a human battering ram.”
Sarge stared toward the motel.
“I don’t charge anymore.”
“What do you call this?”
“Waiting.”
Police vehicles were hidden beyond an overpass. Officers in tactical gear approached from three directions.
Room seventeen’s curtains were closed.
According to the arrested hospital employee, Travis had been holding Kendra there for two days. He planned to force her to sign documents before transporting her south.
Beck had ordered Sarge to remain at the hospital.
Sarge had lasted eleven minutes.
A gunshot shattered the morning.
Mara flinched.
Sarge was out of the truck before she could stop him.
Another shot followed.
Police shouted near the motel’s rear staircase.
Sarge ran toward the building.
His injured leg protested with every step, but fear carried him faster than strength ever could.
A young officer blocked his path.
“Get back!”
“There’s a woman inside!”
“We know.”
“Then move!”
The officer grabbed him. Sarge could have thrown him aside, but he stopped when a third gunshot cracked overhead.
A window burst on the second floor.
Kendra appeared behind the jagged glass.
Her hair was tangled, and blood covered one side of her face.
“Help me!” she screamed.
Travis seized her from behind and dragged her out of sight.
Sarge roared her name.
The sound made everyone turn.
Inside room seventeen, Kendra heard it.
For years, Uncle Earl had existed only in her father’s letters—a scarred ghost who might be dead or might have forgotten her.
Now his voice came from below.
“Kendra! Get down!”
She dropped to the floor as Travis fired through the window.
Police returned fire.
Sarge broke free from the officer and ran toward the exterior staircase.
Mara followed far enough to shout, “Earl, stop!”
He did not.
At the landing, a motel door opened and Travis’s accomplice swung a metal pipe. Sarge raised his arm. The pipe struck his forearm with a sickening crack.
He staggered but remained standing.
The man swung again.
Sarge drove one shoulder into his chest, sending him backward against the railing. He pinned him there until officers arrived.
Then Sarge continued upward.
Beck emerged from the hallway.
“What are you doing here?”
“Where is she?”
“Travis barricaded the room.”
“Is Kendra alive?”
“We think so.”
From behind the door came the sound of furniture scraping.
Travis shouted that he would kill Kendra unless police moved away.
Sarge approached.
Beck seized his shirt.
“He has a gun.”
“He also knows the police won’t rush him while he has a hostage.”
“And what do you plan to do?”
“Give him something else he wants.”
Sarge called through the door.
“Travis Boone!”
Silence.
“I’m Earl Ransom. I have the trust documents.”
Beck stared at him.
Sarge did not have them.
Travis answered.
“You’re lying.”
“I have the original authorization code from Elias Vale. Without it, the trust stays locked.”
That was also a lie.
But greedy men often believed money had secret doors.
“You bring it in alone,” Travis said.
Beck shook his head violently.
Sarge removed the pocketknife from his belt and handed it to him.
“No weapon,” he said. “Your officers enter through the bathroom window while he’s watching me.”
Beck’s expression suggested he wanted to punch him.
Instead, he whispered instructions into his radio.
The door opened six inches.
Sarge stepped inside.
The motel room smelled of sweat, blood, and stale cigarettes.
Travis stood behind Kendra with one arm around her neck and a pistol pressed beneath her jaw. He was thinner than Sarge expected, with restless eyes and a snake tattoo across his hand.
Kendra looked at Sarge.
Recognition passed through her face even though his scars had changed him.
“Uncle Earl?”
His chest tightened.
“Hello, Red Boots.”
She began crying.
Travis jerked her backward.
“Where is the code?”
Sarge raised his empty hands.
“Let her go first.”
“You think I’m stupid?”
“I think you’re frightened.”
Travis aimed the gun at him.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you tried to kill a two-pound baby because you were afraid of losing money.”
“Shut up.”
“I know Kendra survived you.”
“Shut up!”
“And I know men like you need helpless people because you can’t stand beside anyone strong.”
Travis’s face twisted.
He moved the pistol away from Kendra and pointed it directly at Sarge.
That was what Sarge wanted.
The bathroom window exploded inward.
Two officers entered.
Kendra dropped.
Travis fired.
The bullet struck Sarge high in the shoulder, spinning him against the wall.
Police tackled Travis before he could fire again.
Kendra crawled across the carpet.
“Earl!”
Sarge slid to the floor.
Blood spread through his shirt.
He looked at her bruised face and saw the little girl in red boots.
“Your baby,” he gasped. “She’s alive.”
Kendra clutched his hand.
“You found her?”
“She found me.”
As paramedics rushed inside, Sarge opened his fist.
Elias’s dog tag lay in his palm.
May you like
Kendra pressed it to her lips.
For the first time since her father’s death, she was no longer alone.
