“It sounds like a miracle,” Janet said.
Martin searched Savich’s face, and slowly nodded. “Yes, it sounds okay to me, too.”
Janet looked at Savich, held his eyes, and said simply, “Thank you so much for coming into our lives, Dillon. I’ll go get us and the girls packed and call my mom.”
Savich said, “Maybe the one to thank is Samantha Barrister. Yeah, I know how strange it all sounds, and maybe I dreamed some of it. But I’ll tell you guys, she was as real to me as it gets. I’ll tell you more about it after we get to Quantico.
“Right now, I’m going to bring in my wife—she’s the one who found you, Martin—and Detective Raven and Ms. Markham. They’ll help get us on the road. The thing is, I’m heading up the investigation of Justice Stewart Califano’s murder, and I’ve got to get back to Washington.”
They both stared at him. Janet walked over to him and hugged him. “Bring on your wife. I can’t wait to meet her.”
CHAPTER
31
GEORGETOWN WASHINGTON, D.C.
SATURDAY NIGHT
IT HAPPENED SO fast that Sean, playing with Legos on the floor, didn’t have time to react. Fleurette was sitting on the sofa, laughing at something Callie had said, when suddenly, one of the front windows shattered and a bullet slammed into the wall not six inches above Fleurette’s head.
Savich was just coming through the kitchen door, carrying tea and coffee on a tray. “Everyone down! Sherlock, get Sean!” He dropped the tray, ran to Fleurette, and dragged her off the sofa. He fell on top of her, drawing his gun at the same time. He looked toward the shattered glass in the front window. Close, too close. He said, “Nobody move. Sherlock, you’ve got Sean. Ben, yeah, kill the lights, then pull all the drapes, call 911.”
“Got it.”
“Callie, get your nose pressed into the floor.”
Callie was already down, in front of the sofa, not moving.
Sherlock had Sean beneath her. He was howling under her, but she didn’t let him up, kept pressing him into the carpet, covering all of him. Ben crawled to the switch, went up on his knees, and punched off both light switches. There was still light arrowing in from the kitchen. He was crawling to the front windows to pull the heavy drapes when another shot rang out, shattering what was left of the front glass window, hitting low, then another and another.
Finally it was silent, except for the breathing in the living room. Savich said, “Everyone okay?”
Sean’s yell was muffled from beneath his mother, “Daddy!”
“Sean is, but he sounds pissed,” Ben said, and punched 911. They heard him give fast, terse instructions.
“They’ll be here soon. Savich?”
“I’m dialing my boss right now.” Jimmy Maitland answered on the first ring. Then another shot burst into the living room, ripping the back out of one of Savich’s favorite chairs. “I heard that,” Jimmy Maitland said. “What the hell is going on, Savich?”
“Günter’s paying us a house call,” Savich said.
“This guy crazy or what?”
“Bet on it,” Savich said. “Hurry.”
“Half the city will be there in a minute. Keep everyone safe.”
Savich punched off his phone, and wrapped his arm around Fleurette’s head again. “Okay, now, everyone stay as close to the floor as possible. Slow and easy, elbow your way out of the living room to the staircase. The kitchen light doesn’t reach there. There aren’t any windows near the staircase. It’s the safest place in the house.” He lifted most his weight off Fleurette. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
But she didn’t sound okay. “I’m going to stay over you. Let’s shimmy on our elbows together now. I’m right with you. Sherlock, you okay with Sean? You need any help?”
“Nope, got him.” She nearly had to yell to be heard over Sean’s howls. “We’re okay. I’m dragging him beneath me. We’re right behind you.”
Ben said, “You guys stay down. Savich, Sherlock, you’ve got your guns. Callie, you sucking the floor?”
“I’m sucking,” she said from outside the living room. “It won’t need vacuuming for a week. I’m nearly to the staircase.”
Another shot rang out, this one shattering a lamp next to a big sofa. Then another, blasting obliquely through a side window, going wild.
Ben said. “Okay, everyone stay down. I’m going out to see if I can find Günter. See if he’d like to dance with me.”
“No!” Callie jumped to her feet and landed against him, knocking him back against the wall. She grabbed his shirt. “You’re not going anywhere. Are you crazy? We’re going to wait for help.” She actually pulled him tight against her, hanging on for dear life. “Do you want to get yourself killed?”
“For God’s sake, Callie, I’m a cop.” He grabbed her hands, trying to pull her off him, but she held on tight. “Stop trying to strangle me. Listen to me, it’s what I do for a living—serve and protect. Now get back down on the floor and crawl over to that staircase.”
Her fingers dug into his shirt. “If you want to be a damned hero, I’m coming with you.”
Sherlock gave Sean to her husband, and simply tackled Callie, took her down. Callie didn’t stand a chance, black belt in karate or no, and now she was helpless, couldn’t move. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this to me,” she gasped, her face in the carpet. “You really shouldn’t be able to.”
“I learned from the best. Be quiet, Callie, and don’t move or I’ll hurt you. Ben, go, and be careful. As soon as I get Callie to listen to me, I’ll let her up. Dillon, you got Sean? Fleurette’s down?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. You keep Callie’s face in the floor.”
“Why did he try to kill me?” Fleurette whispered, coming up on her knees, clutching Savich, her breath hot against his neck, Sean trapped and crying between them. “I don’t know anything, but he fired into your house. To kill me. Why? I really don’t know anything that could harm him. Why would he come after me?”
“He obviously believes you do know something,” Sherlock said over Sean’s yells, “and it doesn’t look like he’s going to stop. Now, Callie, you got it together, or do you need to get more splinters in your face? Sean’s crying, in case you hadn’t noticed, and it really pisses me off that I’m not comforting him right now.”
“I’m okay,” Callie said, “or very nearly. I’m sorry. Ben’s already out the door, the idiot. I swear I won’t go after him. Go get Sean, Sherlock.”
“Fleurette and I have him,” Savich said. “Get yourself together, Callie. Don’t make me regret bringing you into this investigation.”
Callie drew a deep breath, hiccuped, and said, “I’m sorry, it’s just that Ben—”
“I know. But it’s his job. Let it go. Get yourself together.”
“Okay, okay, I’m trying but, he’s such a macho moron, saying he’s going to go out there and dance with that monster.”
“That particular macho moron is an excellent cop,” Sherlock said.
“That was just a touch of cop humor,” Savich said.
“He knows what he’s doing. Now, Callie, we’re going to glide slowly across the floor to sit next to Dillon and Fleurette. I’m going to hug Sean. We’re going to wait for the cavalry. You just stay down, you got that? Ready?”
They were both breathing hard by the time they could lean against the staircase. Sherlock pulled Sean from between Fleurette and Dillon, and pressed his small face against her shoulder. “It’s okay now, champ,” she whispered against his wet cheek, “don’t worry, it’s okay. Mommy’s right here. It was just a loud noise. You can yell louder than that.”
Not even a minute later sirens sounded loud, at least a half dozen of them. When the front door opened, both Sherlock and Savich had their guns aimed at it. Ben called out before he showed his face, “Jimmy Maitland is here along with lots of my guys and FBI agents. They’re already spreading out, searching for Günter, talking to every neighbor who’ll answer the door. You guys okay?”