Web of Deceit by Peggy Slocum Page A

makin’
jokes, old man, but the reality is your freedom’s gone, and you drive a
minivan,” Elliot says.
    “Things change.
You’ll see.” Frank disappears down the steps to the lab.
    Elliot approaches
the window of the holding room and narrows his eyes, regarding the prisoner and
biding his time.
    The young man
paces back and forth in his Air Jordans, his fingers combing his jet-black
hair. He stops at one end of the cell and presses his fists against the cement
block wall. Without regard, he smashes his right foot into the wall,
admonishing his own stupidity. He continues hobbling, while grimacing with
every other footfall.
    “Don’t let him
fool you,” Chip says from across the hall, startling Elliot. “He’s just sorry
he got caught.”
    “I don’t know.
Something doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t fit the profile of the average thug.”
    “Clean clothes and
a nice haircut only changes the outside. Underneath it all—scum.”
    “Chip, urgent call
on line two!” a voice booms through the loud speaker.
    Chip goes to the
wall phone and grabs the receiver.
    “Officer Riley.
May I help you?”
    Elliot is
distracted by Frank’s voice from the stairs.
    “I think we got
our boy, Elliot. They need to run the DNA, but from my experience, it looks
like those strands came from the same girl,” Frank says, returning.
    Slam!
    Chip smashes the
phone receiver against the wall. It shatters and drops to the floor. He grabs
his temples and screams in agony.
    Elliot whirls
around. “Chip! What’s wrong?!”
    Chip’s unbearable
torment shreds away his last bit of sanity. In a torrent of uncaged
desperation, Chip lunges toward the holding cell and severs the door from its
bolt and hinges with impossible strength. Chip and the door crash against the
opposite wall of the cell.
    Elliot and Frank
are stunned.
    Recovering first,
Frank starts at a dead run through the empty door frame. “Elliot, snap out of
it. We gotta get Chip down.”
    Chip springs to
his feet and unholsters his side arm as Frank’s mass hits him hard from the
side, pinning him against the cell wall. Frank’s hold is relinquished as Chip
brushes him aside with ease. Chip brings his side arm back under control.
    Elliot lunges at
Chip from behind, tackling him to the concrete floor, protecting the wide-eyed
prisoner.
    Chip’s gun skids
across the floor out of his reach.
    Frank bellows into
the hall. “I need something to calm him down! Get Joanna in here!”
    Chip pushes Elliot
aside and stands. His eyes are locked on the young, cowering prisoner.
    “Get that kid out
of here!” Frank shouts to the officer entering the room. Rushing him from the
front, Frank grabs Chip at the base of his rib cage, locking his arms at his
side and lifting him from the floor.
    “No!” Chip yells.
Pain drives his adrenal glands to overload. With the strength of seven men,
Chip breaks Frank’s hold, drops to the floor and pushes Frank away. Chip drops
to a knee, retrieving a second gun from his ankle holster.
    “Run!” Elliot
yells at the kid as he and Frank take Chip down together.
    Bang!
    Chip’s gun
discharges.
    “Somebody, knock
him out!” Elliot yells.
    “What’s goin’
on?!” A tall brunette rushes into the cell with a syringe.
    “Joanna! Thank
God. We don’t know. Chip flipped out.” Elliot uses all his strength to hold
Chip’s arm still.
    Joanna quickly
shoots the dose into Chip’s arm. “There ya go.” She tries to calm Chip with her
voice.
    Chip’s screams
fade, and his body begins to relax.
    “You guys can let
go of him now. He won’t be waking up for a while.”
    Elliot pats Frank
on the shoulder. “Need help getting up, old man?”
    Frank doesn’t
move.
    “Frank?” With no
response from Frank, Elliot rolls him onto his back. Blood is soaking through
Frank’s shirt above the center left side of his chest. “Franks been shot! Get
an ambulance ASAP!”
    “They’re on the
way up,” a voice answers from the hall.
    Joanna checks