Chapter Eighteen
Trevor didn’t thinkvery hard about Jedidiah’s concerns, though he couldn’t completely blow them off. She was talking to him but she wasnothappy. Yes, he’d heard of trouble at the courthouse but not often and sure as hell not life-threatening, in his experience anyway. As he’d told Jedidiah, what had happened in the courthouse shooting she’d told him about was a fluke. Not likely to happen again. But could he guarantee no harm would come to anyone? No, of course not.
Over the next week the situation escalated. The BFK chapter president had a brick thrown through his window too. Trevor’s motorcycle tires were slashed, as were Daniel’s. Several of the members said they received threatening calls. They told the police, of course, but so far no one knew exactly how the perps had learned of the members’ phone numbers and addresses. The membership wasn’t secret, however, so it would probably be easy enough to find out.
Frank Moore wasn’t doing any of it. He was in jail on a large bond he couldn’t possibly pay. Someone was doing it, though. Maybe, as Jedidiah had suggested, Moore had friends and relatives who could be causing trouble.
Finally the day of the trial arrived. His and Jedidiah’s relationship had been strained, to say the least. Though she didn’t bring it up, he knew she didn’t want him going to the courthouse. But he felt a responsibility, especially since he’d been one of the first to help Ricky. Despite the harassment, he didn’t feel particularly threatened. Maybe that was naive. Jedidiah certainly thought so. But hell, he was a veteran. He’d been a military policeman; he could handle himself.
The police departments in both Whiskey River and Johnson City, where the courthouse was, were up to date on the latest threats and incidents. They’d been promised a police presence at Ricky’s new foster parents’ house. There was always a police presence at the courthouse, of course.
Trevor and a number of other bikers showed up at Ricky’s new home to escort him and his foster parents to the courthouse. They’d be in a car and the bikers would surround them to escort them. Unfortunately, Ricky would have to testify about the abuse. Trevor knew from Annie Brewster, Ricky’s social worker, that Ricky was scared. What kid wouldn’t be, having to face his abuser in open court? But that was exactly why Bikers For Kids existed. To give Ricky support and show him he wasn’t alone.
About the only good thing to come out of this mess was that they found out Ricky hadn’t been sexually abused. Not that being physically and mentally abused were insignificant of course, but an added component of sexual abuse made things that much worse.
Though there were only about fifty of the bikers at Ricky’s house to begin with, others would join them along the way or at the courthouse itself. The judge had agreed to allow some of them to be in the courtroom during the trial. Not all judges allowed the group to remain in the courtroom but many of them did.
Ricky came out of the house with his foster parents, Ed and Julie Snowden. The kid looked so young and so scared it was heartbreaking. But when he saw the bikers, he perked up. He waved at them and looked happy when they gave him the thumbs-up sign. Only two cops had been assigned the duty, not surprising given the small size of Whiskey River’s police force. Adam Wells, one of the cops who Trevor knew, had just opened the car’s back door when he heard a ping. The sound of something ricocheting off metal. He looked around, heard another ping and shortly after that, saw Adam fall.
“Shit, someone’s shooting at them,” he said to Justin. His friend had been a BFK member for several years and was one of the people who’d convinced him to join.
“Adam is down.” Down but moving. Thank God. Trevor had known Adam since the first time he came to town visiting Will and his family. Adam had pulled him over for running a stop sign. Since Trevor was a visitor Adam let him off with a warning and they’d been friends ever since. Connor Lowell, the other policeman, was on his radio calling for backup as he ran to the car.
“What the hell?” Justin said, reaching his side.
“Get down,” Trevor shouted. He started toward the car, realizing Ricky’s new foster father was protecting him and the mother had crawled under the car. The other cop was clearly trying to get them and Adam to safety. Where the hell was the shooter?
“On the roof! He’s on the roof,” one of the bikers shouted as many of them crowded around the family. They heard sirens in the distance and knew more police were on the way.
No one was doing anything about the shooter.
“The bastard’s not finished,” Trevor said. “Adam’s been shot and Connor has his hands full with the family.”
“Let’s go,” Justin said. “You and I can take him down.”
“With no weapon?”
“I’ve got my 9mm.”
Trevor knew Justin had his concealed carry, as he did. Though Trevor wasn’t carrying since he knew he was going inside the courthouse. Justin had planned to wait outside.
Trevor and Justin ran to the back of the house. Judging by the bullets that were hitting the police cruiser, the shooter was still focused on Ricky, who was now surrounded by bikers. They’d just reached the back of the house when they heard noise coming from the roof. “He’s coming down,” Trevor said. “He must have gotten up there that way.” He motioned to the porch overhang.
They waited underneath and soon heard his footsteps directly above them. The moment he jumped down, they were both on him, putting him face down in the grass. His rifle was strapped to his back. “You really are an idiot,” Justin said. “Jumping off the roof with a rifle on your back?”
Trevor unstrapped the rifle while Justin took care of the shooter. His friend was about twice the guy’s size. Justin planted his boot in the guy’s back and watched him squirm to get away while shouting curses and threats—not very inventive ones—at them.
“Give it up,” Justin told him. “You’re not getting away.” Looking at Trevor he added, “I didn’t even have to pull my gun.”
“I just wish we’d gotten to him sooner, but who knew this fool was going to get up on the roof and shoot people?”
With a snort of disgust, Justin shook his head. “We’ll wait for the backup here. You go see what you can find out about injuries.” The sound of sirens came closer and closer. “I think backup is here.”
“All right.” He felt confident leaving the son of a bitch in Justin’s hands until one of the police could take over.
As he walked around front Daniel called to him. The chapter president was also former military and had been one of the first to reach the family. “Did you get him?”
“Yes. Justin’s holding him for the police.”
