Page 85 of Dead Air
"I couldn't let her kill another one." He moved slowly, maintaining distance from their weapons. "Judge Byrd ordered Blackwell's execution after the podcast exposed too much."
Parks maintained a tactical position near the door while Lawson continued assisting Blackwell. "You had her this whole time. At the cabin, you never said a word."
"Because I wasn't certain you could be trusted yet." Richardson's voice carried a defensive edge. "Five years of watching corrupt officers betray investigations. I needed proof of your commitment before revealing Blackwell's location."
"Proof of my commitment?" Lawson's anger flared. "I've been hunting Monica's killer for five years."
"While drinking yourself into blackouts. While making tactical errors that compromised evidence." Richardson gestured toward the IV equipment. "I couldn't risk Blackwell's life on your emotional stability. When Amy told me you came looking for me, I drove out to the cabin to meet you there."
Blackwell stirred between them.
"By pretending to follow her orders while actually protecting you."
"The same approach I used after Monica's death." Richardson moved to the monitoring station, indicating screens that showed various Savannah locations. "Appear to cooperate while actually gathering evidence."
"You tested me at the cabin." Lawson processed the manipulation. "Gave me partial truth to see how I'd react."
"I gave you everything except Blackwell's location." Richardson met her gaze directly. "Your response confirmed what I'd hoped. You wanted justice more than revenge."
"You could have contacted federal authorities." Parks challenged Richardson's methods. "Proper channels exist for witness protection."
"Proper channels include compromised personnel." Richardson indicated specific monitors showing federal building entrances. "Byrd has connections throughout multiple agencies. Direct contact risked exposing Blackwell's location."
The surveillance screens suddenly shifted, showing new activity around the main house. Judge Byrd emerged from a sideentrance, accompanied by two men in dark clothing. All three moved toward the pool house with weapons visible.
"She knows we're here." Richardson reached for a pistol secured beneath the monitoring console. "The motion sensors detected your approach."
Blackwell attempted to stand but collapsed back into the chair. "Can't … legs won't work."
Lawson cut the restraints while Parks moved to the window. "Three subjects approaching. Thirty seconds out."
"We need to move." Lawson helped Blackwell to her feet, supporting her weight as circulation returned to sedated limbs.
"No." Blackwell gripped Lawson's arm with surprising strength. "I need to face her. End this."
"You can barely stand." Parks maintained watch through the window. "Twenty seconds."
"I have everything recorded." Blackwell pulled herself upright against the chair. "Her confession. The orders. All of it."
Richardson positioned himself beside the main entrance, weapon drawn. "Five years of playing her game. Time for truth."
Footsteps circled the building. Multiple positions.
"Detective Lawson." Byrd's voice carried through the walls, commanding and cold. "I know you're inside."
Parks moved away from the window, taking cover behind the equipment racks. "They've surrounded the building."
Lawson helped Blackwell toward the monitoring station, both women moving awkwardly as the journalist's sedated muscles struggled to respond. The screens displayed armed figures at each exit.
"Judge Byrd." Lawson called toward the door. "We have evidence of your involvement in Monica Landry's murder. Federal agents are already reviewing the documentation."
"Evidence obtained through illegal breaking and entering. Inadmissible in any court proceeding." Byrd's legal trainingshowed in her immediate response. "Release Ms. Blackwell and surrender peacefully. This can still end without additional bloodshed."
Richardson checked his weapon's magazine. "She's not walking away from this. Not after Monica. Not after five years of cover-ups."
The door handle turned slowly. Locked, but not for long against determined intrusion. Metal scraped against metal as someone worked the mechanism from outside.
"Tom." Byrd's voice grew closer. "Bring her out. We're done with this charade."
