Page 101 of Shelter for Morgan

Wayne, the chemistry teacher had bailed out of his own truck, telling him to take the vehicle and run. Stupid ass.

But with the truck in his possession, Munder knew that he didn’t have a lot of options.

He didn’t have a place to hide the truck and didn’t know anyone who could fix it without putting it in a wide-open shop.

If they were looking for the truck, and they probably were with his luck, then he had to think about his next steps.

“You had a good run, John.” He nodded and lay low in the brush. “You had everything going your way. For a while.”

He thought back to the night when that other social studies teacher had shown back up at school.

Normally the teachers at the school would stay a little late, but they wouldn’t stick around very long.

And as a resource officer, he had the ability to stick around and patrol at all hours.

So, he’d felt like everything was under control until the light in the social studies class turned on.

Benji had noticed it first, calling attention to the classroom lights shining across the grass.

Munder was sure that he’d handled the issue.

He’d gone over to see what the teacher had noticed and when she’d turned tail to run, he’d reached for his throw away piece and shot.

Benji said he hadn’t seen the shooting, but after that night the kid had been more than a little skittish around him. He’d been quieter than normal. Kind of grumpy and acting like he didn’t want to be there.

Offering the kid more money hadn’t made things better.

Instead, the damn idiot burned himself to stop cooking meth. After that, they only thing he could scare the boy with was a bullet in the head to keep him from tattling on their little enterprise.

And then that new teacher showed up. She didn’t have the good sense to keep her nose out of other people’s business.

And now… he was hiding out in the brush at an out of the way hiking area knowing that people were probably looking for him.

Or maybe luck had changed for him.

Maybe the police didn’t ask for security footage from businesses along the road.

Maybe that nosy little bitch had died in that shitty little car.

Maybe the sun would shine out of his ass!

A twig snapped nearby, and he reached for his weapon.

“This is Weston Cooper, Munder. You’re surrounded by my SWAT team.”

“Well, just my fucking luck.”

A laugh reached his ears from somewhere over his head. “If this is your idea of luck, Munder, you’ve been living a sucky life.”

Munder glared at the bright blue sky high over his head. “No shit, Sherlock.”

A SWAT officer stepped through the brush, his weapon leveled at Munder’s head. “Move your hand away from the gun, Munder. Turn on your stomach and put your hands behind your back.”

The school resource officer swore under his breath. “Just tell me one thing.”

“What?”

Munder tasted bile on his tongue. “Is that bitch dead?”

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