“Go to hell! Read me my rights if you want, but get out of my damned
face.”
Sawyer’s response was to shift his pistol slightly to the left and fire
one round. Hardy screamed as the slug took off skin and the top part of
his right ear. Blood poured down the side of his face. He fell to the
ground. “Are you crazy?” Sawyer now aimed the gun directly at Hardy’s
head. “I’ll have your badge and your pension, and your ass will be in
jail for more years than you’ve got left, you sonofabitch,” Hardy
screamed. “You’ll lose everything.”
“No I won’t. You’re not the only person who can manipulate a crime
scene, old buddy.” Hardy watched in growing astonishment as Sawyer
popped open the gun bag riding above his belt and took out another 10mm.
He held it up. “This will be the gun you’ll have gotten away from me in
the struggle. They’ll find it clutched in your hand. It’ll have
several shots fired from it, evidencing your homicidal intent.” He
pointed toward the vast ocean. “Kind of hard to find the slugs out
there.” He held up the other pistol. “You used to be a first-rate
investigator, Frank. Care to deduce what role this pistol will play?”
“Dammit, Lee, don’t!”
Sawyer continued calmly. “This will be the pistol I use to kill you.”
“Jesus, Lee!”
“Where is Archer?”
“Please, Lee. Don’t!” Hardy wailed.
Sawyer moved the muzzle to within a few inches of Hardy’s head.
When Hardy covered his face with his hands, Sawyer snatched the disk
from Hardy’s quivering fingers and looked at it. “Come to think of it,
this might come in handy.” He put it in his pocket.
“Good-bye, Frank.” His finger descended on the trigger.
“Wait, wait, please, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you.” Hardy gagged for a
moment and then looked up into Sawyer’s grim face.
“Jason is dead,” he cried out.
The few words slammed into Lee Sawyer like lightning bolts. His big
shoulders collapsed and he felt the last vestiges of energy leave his
body. It was as though he had simply died. He had been almost certain
of this result but had been hoping for a miracle, for Sidney Archer and
her little girl’s sake. Something made him turn and look behind him.
Sidney was standing at the top of the path, barely five feet from him,
drenched and shivering. Their eyes met under soft moonlight suddenly
revealed through the patchy clouds. They did not need to speak. She
had heard the terrible truth: Her husband was not coming back.
A scream came from the cliffside. Gun ready, Sawyer whirled around just
as Hardy went over the cliff. Sawyer made it to the edge in time to see
his old friend and new nemesis bounce off the jagged rocks far below and
disappear into the violent waters.
Sawyer stared down at the abyss and then with a furious thrust he hurled
his pistol as far as he could into the ocean. The movement tore at his
damaged ribs, but he didn’t feel the pain. He closed his eyes and then
opened them to stare at the savage outline of the Atlantic.
“Dammit!” Sawyer’s big body leaned heavily to one side as he fought to
keep his fractured ribs immobile and his weary lungs functioning.
His ripped arm and battered face started to bleed once again.
He stiffened as he felt the arm on his shoulder. Under the
circumstances, Sawyer would not have been surprised to see Sidney Archer
run as fast as she could from this place; who could’ve blamed her?
Instead, she put one of her arms around his waist and one of his around
her shoulder, and helped the injured FBI agent back down the path.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
The funeral that finally laid Jason Archer to rest in peace occurred on
a clear December day atop a quiet knoll about twenty minutes from his
brick and stone home. During the graveside service Sawyer had stayed in
the background as family and close friends attended the once again
grieving widow. The FBI agent had stayed at the grave site after all of
them had gone. As he stared at the newly etched tombstone, Sawyer