Then he grabbed his rifle and ran.
Monday, February 23,
11:35 P.M.
Kristen stood at her front window, watching Abe’s SUV disappear down the street. Another one. But this one was different. Their man had missed, and left a target alive.
Abe had struggled with leaving her, but in the end she’d insisted and knowing his duty, he’d gone. Now it was quiet again and she stood alone, unsettled and afraid in her own home. She went into the kitchen to make some tea, the routine movements providing some sparse comfort. Then she looked down to see her hairpins on the countertop where Reagan had left them. She thought back. Saturday night. Two nights ago. It seemed like twenty. He’d held her standing right here, kissed her for the first time and made her feel… alive. She wished he was here now.
The doorbell rang and she jumped. „Ridiculous,“ she murmured. „There’s a cop sitting outside.“ A lot of good that did last night, she thought. The bell rang again, longer this time. Wishing the three-day waiting period was over and she had her new gun, she walked out of her own kitchen, her knees trembling. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and punched in 9-1-1 and poised her thumb over the send button. Just in case. Although she doubted anyone with nefarious intent would be so bold as to ring the bell. But stranger things had happened. This week. To me.
She looked through the peephole in her door and exhaled in relief. „Kyle,“ she said, opening the door and clearing the 9-1-1 from her cell phone.
Kyle Reagan stepped inside, as large as his son. He was a quiet man, having said fewer than two dozen words to her the two times she’d visited the Reagan house. But he had an easy smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes that made her feel welcome each time. His blue eyes were sober now as he examined her face, likely for signs of strain. It was no secret that she’d left his house tonight in something less than a serene mood. He held out a bag. „Becca sent food.“
Kristen’s lips quirked. Food was Becca’s panacea. „And Abe sent you?“
He shrugged. „Something like that. You got any coffee? It’s cold out there.“
„I was about to make myself some tea.“
Kyle followed her into the kitchen and said nothing while she spooned tea into the teapot. „I suppose I should tell you that you shouldn’t have come,“ she said. „But I’m glad you did.“ Her hands clenched on the countertop. „I hate being afraid in my own house.“
„I know,“ he said quietly. „I’m not going to tell you not to be afraid, Kristen. It’s a human response and in your case, a good one. It’s keeping you aware.“
„I bought a gun.“
„I know. Abe told me. He said you’re a pretty good shot.“
She leaned back against the counter. „He did?“
„Sure. In fact, just about everyone in my family is singing your praises.“
Kristen looked away. „I like your family, Kyle. I like them too much to drag them into all this.“
„I know you do.“ He studied her across the room, not belittling her fear for his family and her respect for him went up. „How is your mother?“ he asked.
„She’s all right. Thanks.“ The kettle began to whistle and she lifted it from the stove. „I called the nursing home when we got back here.“ Sitting on her sofa with Abe next to her, his arm around her shoulders for support. „I needed to hear from the staff myself. My father tends… to keep things from me.“
„Parents do that. For some reason we don’t want our kids to worry.“
Kristen shrugged. She knew better. „Perhaps.“ She joined him at the table with the teapot and two cups and changed the subject. „Then Abe called the police in Kansas.“
„Did he get anywhere with them?“
„No. Nobody saw anything, and there aren’t any cameras in the nursing home.“
„What about the note and the flower?“
„Abe tried to get them to agree to ship it here, but they politely declined. They said they’d send it to their own crime lab in Topeka.“
„If it was Conti, they won’t find anything,“ Kyle said quietly.
„I know.“
He slipped his hand in his pocket and brought out a deck of cards. „I’ll stay here if you want to sleep. But if you can’t…“ He waved the deck.
Kristen knew she wouldn’t sleep a wink until Abe came back with news on the latest shooting. „I don’t know many card games,“ she said. „My dad didn’t allow cards. But I need to get some work done anyway.“
„Anything I can do to help?“
„Do you know anything about databases?“
He grimaced. „About as much as you know about cards.“
Kristen smiled. „Then just keep me company?“
He dealt himself a hand of solitaire. „That I can do.“
Tuesday, February 24,
12:05 A.M.
Red lights flashed, creating a strobe effect as they reflected against no fewer than five police cars, six unmarked cars, a CSU van, and two ambulances.
Mia was crouching by one of the two men. When she saw Abe, she stood up and beckoned him closer.
„Sorry I’m late,“ he apologized. „I had to find somebody to stay with Kristen.“
„No problem. This is Rafe Munoz,“ she said, pointing to the big man lying on a stretcher, encased in an unzipped bodybag. „He’s a bodyguard. Was, anyway. That“ – she pointed at the stretcher being loaded into an ambulance – „is William Carson.“
Abe grimaced. He knew the name. He’d been unfortunate enough to be cross-examined by Carson when he was still in uniform, years before. „Another defense attorney. What’s Carson’s status?“
„Iffy. May make it, may not. He was conscious for a few minutes after the first cruiser arrived. He ID’d Munoz before he passed out. They’re taking him to Rush. Munoz has a bullet hole in his head. Looks like he was kneeling next to Carson when he was hit. But Carson…“ Even in the darkness Abe could see Mia’s eyes gleam. „The first shot hit him here, barely grazed him.“ She tapped the top of her skull. „Second shot hit him square in the chest. We got an entry wound, but no exit.“
Abe’s pulse spiked. „The bullet’s still in him.“
„With any luck, before dawn we’ll have a maker’s mark to show Diana Givens.“
„Where did the bullet come from?“
Mia turned and pointed to the four-story building across the street. „He was waiting for Carson up there. Let’s go take a look.“
Armed with a bright searchlight, they climbed the fire escape to the roof and gingerly crossed to where their sniper would have lain in wait.
Mia whistled softly. „Do my eyes deceive me? Could I possibly be looking at what I think I’m looking at?“
Abe looked at the cup with the plastic lid, his own heart doing a little victory dance. Still he felt compelled to keep them from getting their hopes up. „It might not be his.“
Mia bent down, sniffed at it, pressed her latex gloved fingers to the side of the cup. „It’s coffee and it’s still lukewarm.“ She grinned up at him. „Jack will be pleased.“
Tuesday, February 24,
12:30 A.M.
He sat at his kitchen table, his hands still shaking uncontrollably. He’d missed.
He’d missed. And then he’d panicked and killed an innocent man.
Well, he reasoned, the man was probably not that innocent. He was hanging around Carson, after all. Carson was a dirty lawyer who represented murderers and drug dealers and rapists. Anyone accompanying such a pariah couldn’t be entirely innocent.
But it was a regrettable loss, he had to admit. Worse yet, he’d run without making sure both men were dead. He’d turned tail and run down the fire escape like a common criminal, like a thug with the police at his heels.
The police still didn’t know who he was. Not yet. But perhaps it was time to be considering the end. He picked up the three cards he hadn’t added to the fishbowl. They were special names. He’d put off their executions, because as soon as all three were dead, the police would put two and two together and know exactly where to find him. He’d wanted to empty the fishbowl first, but time was growing shorter.