“Stop him!” Laurie yelled, pointing after him. “He’s a killer, and he’s got a gun!”
The two policemen took off down the hall in pursuit. One of them yelled “Stop!” but Ronnie ignored them. Laurie followed but slowed as she pulled her phone out. Coming to a near halt, she placed a call to Lou. As the call went through, she resumed her pursuit of the policemen and Ronnie as rapidly as using the phone would allow. Ahead, all of them had disappeared into a stairwell.
“What’s up, Laur?” Lou said without preamble.
“I’ve exposed a killer!” Laurie shrieked. “The two policemen are after him. He’s armed.” She reached the stairwell and pulled open the door.
“Good grief,” Lou said. “Where are you?”
“I’m in a stairwell,” she managed. She was getting progressively out of breath. As she plunged down the stairs, she saw the door to the second floor was just settling into its jamb. “They went out onto the second floor. They must be heading for the pedestrian bridge to the parking garage.”
“I’m on my way,” Lou said. “I’ll be there in minutes. And I’ll call in backup. Stay out of it, Laurie!”
Laurie disconnected as she pulled open the door to the second floor. From having accepted a ride home from Sue on several occasions, she knew the route to the pedestrian bridge. Running again, she reached it and crossed over to the parking garage, where she yanked open the door. Her hope was to see the policemen had nabbed the killer but what she saw instead were the two officers hunkering down behind the parking valet’s podium with their guns drawn. The tall, thin officer frantically motioned for her to go back, but ignoring him, she bent over and joined them, squatting down behind the podium.
“You shouldn’t be here!” Louie snapped. “The bastard fired at us.”
“I’m not surprised,” Laurie said. “I think he’s killed a lot of patients, and I have personal reasons to want to be sure he is caught. Where the hell is he?”
“He’s behind that gray Mercedes,” Don said. He pointed across the lot to a car parked alongside a wall. “We returned fire, and he ran behind that Benz.”
“What are you going to do?” Laurie asked. She tried to look. The lighting in the garage was not the best, and there were long areas of shadow.
“Keep your head down,” Louie demanded.
“We’re going to wait for backup like we are supposed to do,” Don said. “They should be here very shortly. When we called for backup, we were told that it was already on its way, which surprised us. When he went into the SICU, this dude told us he was the nursing supervisor. We thought he was a doctor.”
“I was told he is the nursing supervisor,” Laurie said. “More important, he’s also a killer and probably a serial killer.”
“Jesus Christ.” Don moaned. “We thought this was going to be a cushy detail, not a goddamned firefight.”
“When you said you have personal reasons to want him caught, what did you mean?” Louie asked.
“I’d rather not say at the moment,” she responded. She didn’t want to think about it. Instead, she took out her phone and placed another call to Lou. He answered on the first ring.
“I’m almost there,” he said. “Two minutes. Where are you and where is the killer? Do you know?”
“I’m in the parking garage,” Laurie said. “And he is, too. I’m with the two officers. There has been gunfire. They have him pinned behind a gray Mercedes on the second floor.”
“Tell them not to do anything stupid and that backup is on its way.”
“Don’t worry! They seem appropriately conservative.”
“Good,” Lou said. “And it goes for you, too.” He disconnected.
For a few minutes, the three people huddled behind the valet podium were silent as they kept their eyes on the gray Mercedes, then all at once they jumped. Behind them the door to the pedestrian bridge burst open and four hospital security men in black suits, talking loudly among themselves, came running into the garage.
“Good God,” Louie said exasperatedly as he again frantically waved for the new arrivals to take cover.
“What’s going on here?” one of the new arrivals demanded.
“We’ve got a homicide suspect who fired at us cornered behind that Mercedes across the way,” the first officer snapped. “So get the hell down!”
The moment he spoke, a hail of gunfire erupted and one of the arriving security people cried out as he was hit in the leg and fell to the pavement. Everyone else ducked. It was Laurie who spotted the killer, who had run out from behind the Mercedes to take advantage of the commotion caused by the security peoples’ arrival.
“He’s escaping!” she cried. The two officers hesitantly stood up and then ran out into the roadway, aiming their guns. But the killer disappeared behind a black Cherokee. The security people, still hunched over, crowded around their fallen comrade to lend a hand while one of them called down to the ED to send help.
In the next instant, the Cherokee shot backward with its wheels sending a high-pitched screeching that reverberated around the confines of the garage. Then the SUV powered forward with equal squealing, heading away down the inclined ramp. The smell of burnt rubber permeated the air. In response, the two patrolmen each fired several shots at the departing Cherokee but didn’t try to pursue. Don pulled his radio off his shoulder and used it to let his precinct operator know the suspect was fleeing and described the vehicle.
Still holding her phone, she called Lou.
“I’m in sight of the parking garage,” Lou barked.
“He’s in a black SUV with flames painted on it, heading for the exit from the second floor!” Laurie yelled back. “He shot one of the hospital security people.”
“Ten-four!” Lou said, and disconnected.
Gripping the steering wheel with both hands, Lou turned his Malibu sharply to the right into one of the MMH’s garage entrance/exits and crashed through the black-and-white-striped wooden gate. On the other side of the gate area, he pulled into an open slot and then rapidly backed out, completely blocking the roadway. Leaping out of the vehicle, he pulled out his service pistol from his belt holster and then hunkered down behind his car with a view up the ramp over his car’s front hood. A flat black SUV appeared at the top of the ramp with screeching tires while making a 180-degree turn to come into view. Accelerating, it came at Lou, closing the gap rapidly.
Realizing the man was not going to stop, Lou dove out of the way at the last second, hitting the pavement hard with his right shoulder. Behind him he heard the thundering crash of glass and metal as the SUV rammed the Malibu and then drove it back to smash against the exit stanchions, where both vehicles finally came to a smoking halt.
Leaping up, Lou raced the few steps to bring him near to the SUV’s driver’s-side door while he yelled for the driver, who he could see despite the tinted windows, to come out with his hands held high. Lou waited a beat and then repeated his order, yelling even more loudly. He was holding his service pistol in both hands out in front of him, pointed at the indistinct profile.
The car door suddenly flew open, and a man came into view, gun in hand, trained on Lou. Reacting by reflex honed over the years, Lou shot the man three times. Still the man managed to discharge his weapon, but it was after having taken a round in his chest and his aim was off, and the bullet harmlessly ricocheted around the garage.