Tropical Threat (#3 - Semper Fi Series )

Chapter 12 - Approaching

"Decklin Moore. Originally from Upstate New York. Moved to Macon six years ago. Was indicted for fraud but not convicted. He pled "no contest" and the judge let him walk with probation for a year; after which he moved on to our fair city. He worked at the local pharmacy in the supercenter, but was fired for suspicion of theft, though they never pressed charges. He then went to work for Bryan Phillips. He was nearby when the drug bust went down last week, but acted as a witness/concerned citizen and let the criminals get busted. He might've even helped Big Red and Romeo get away. Aliases are as follows: Ryan Marks, Jason Fowler, Freddie DuMont, Arnold Wilkes, and Jeremy Mitchell." As Detective Billings said the last name, those gathered in the room fell silent, and the name resonated off the walls.

Most people in this little town knew and respected him. He'd helped so many and was always nice. He had a smile for everyone he knew, and never had a bad word to say. He'd fooled them. All of them.

After a few minutes, Billings continued. "I did some digging. He has accumulated quite a rap sheet since leaving New York, but the one in New York includes, but is not limited to, assault, rape, attempted murder, armed robbery with assault, and suspected arson. He's still wanted in Buffalo and Rochester for questioning in a couple of unsolved cases. My guess? He's going to kill Detective Connelly and move on without looking back."

Sheriff Ross asked: "Do you think he's given up on taking out Miranda and Kerri?"

"I don't think he's given up, but we've put some good people on their guard and he knows he can't get to them."

Nodding his head, the Sheriff contemplated this for a moment. "Let's see if this team is willing to help us find Natasha."

"They will. They're all very close to one another. My guess is that they're already planning something." Billings smiled, knowing that was the case.

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The rain started like any other Savannah area storm: with too much lightning and thunder. Sometimes Savannah had flash floods, where a huge gray, almost black, thunderhead would move in and dump a foot or more of rain in less than half an hour, making some streets unpassable to any vehicle smaller than a full sized pick up truck. The difference between this sudden spray and others was Tropical Storm Vern was feeding it, and it wasn't going away in half an hour.

"Can I please stretch my legs. I'm a very active person. Sitting all the time is giving me leg cramps. I promise," she emphasized with her hands int he air, "I won't try anything. I'm going stir crazy."

He was looking out the window that faced the street. He was more focused on the car parked across from the cabin than he was the impending storm. The car hadn't moved in over four hours. Neither had the man inside. Every now and again, the unknown stalker would make a phone call or stretch a little. He hadn't moved for food, to use the restroom, or even work the kinks out of his legs that were sure to come from sitting in one spot for so long. This was making Jeremy a little more than nervous, and her squawking about needing to move around made him jittery.

"Sure, but you know the drill. I won't hesitate to shoot you!" He shot her a scowl to nail his meaning.

"Thanks. Um, you have to untie me." She tried to sound sheepish. What she wanted to do was kick him in his private area and knock him one in the nose before running out into the rain towards anywhere but here.

Just to prove a point, he landed another hard punch to her abdomen, and then to her chin. "Holy gracious, man," she exclaimed, rubbing her jaw for emphasis, "I just need to stretch and pee. You don't have to dislocate my jaw for that! And why are you hitting me around like I'm a man attacking you. YOU kidnapped ME! I would think you'd grown up with some manners, like not hitting women."