“And they’ve been helpful this time too, Captain. Annie’s the one who got Tammy Norton to admit her husband beats her up. I didn’t see any evidence of that.” Hank paused and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’ll keep an eye on them, but I don’t think we can tell them what they can and cannot do. As long as they stay within the law.”
“Fair enough,” Diego said. “But make sure they don’t keep any evidence from you.”
“They never do, Captain. They’ve always been forthcoming. I think their history shows that.” He paused. “Why would they keep anything back? They not only want to see justice done, but they have clients to take care of. It’s their job.”
“I realize I can’t keep them out of this entirely, but tell them to be careful. We already suspect Norton killed at least one person, and we know he beats his wife. If he’s the one who made the attempt on Annie, either himself, or with a pro, then he needs to be stopped ASAP. He’s proven himself to be a violent person.”
“We’ll get him,” Hank said.
Diego dropped his elbows on the armrests and steepled his fingers under his chin. He didn’t share his thoughts, but rather dismissed the detectives with a wave. “Go home now, guys. You can get back at it in the morning.”
Hank stood. “I’ll finish the reports then I’ll be out of here.” He turned to go. “Goodnight, Captain.”
Diego waved again, his eyes buried in a file folder. “Good night.”
King followed Hank from the office, crossed the quiet room, and went out the front door.
Hank returned to his desk and sat, pulling a file toward him. He looked at his watch. This was going to be an early night for a change. He would have time to drop by and see Amelia before going home, and he hoped to get an early start the next morning.
Chapter 20
DAY 3 - Wednesday, 8:35 a.m.
JAKE HUSTLED MATTY and Kyle out the front door of the house and into the Firebird. He glanced toward the patrol car parked at the curb. The same two cops had been there most of the night, keeping a close eye on the house.
One of the officers called Jake’s phone from time to time, keeping in touch, reassuring them, and checking to see if everything was all right inside the house.
Jake started the vehicle and pulled from the driveway, stopping beside the cruiser. He rolled down his window. “You guys okay?”
The cop in the driver seat nodded. “All quiet last night. Everything all right in the house?”
Jake nodded, and the other cop looked over and stifled a yawn.
“Annie’s making you guys a cup of coffee. She’ll be out in a minute.”
“Sounds good,” the driver said, looking at his watch. “We still have a couple hours to go before some fresh guys get here.”
Jake waved a hand and pulled away. He appreciated the watch put on the house, but didn’t expect the would-be killer to return. Nonetheless, they were threatened, and the safety of his family was his top priority.
North Richmond Public School was only two blocks from the house and Matty usually walked to school with Kyle, his best friend who lived next door to the Lincolns, but today Jake wasn’t taking any chances.
He drove to the school, pulled in front, and escorted the boys to the door of the building. He waited until they were inside before returning to the car.
He opened the vehicle door and glanced around. It was a warm day, too warm for anything other than a t-shirt, and certainly too warm to be wearing a ski mask. And the man now approaching him from the rear of the car not only wore a ski mask, but the upraised pistol in his hand showed he meant business.
Jake dropped to the ground as the weapon spat lead. The bullet zipped over his head and through the open window of the car.
The second shot followed immediately, but by then, Jake had rolled to the side. He stumbled to the front of his vehicle on all fours. He heard footsteps, following, relentless. He dove to the opposite side of the car and looked around for some means of protection.
The vehicle wouldn’t cover him for long. The assassin only needed one clear shot and it would be all over.
His first instinct was to run directly away from the car, toward the school, but his second instinct took over. There were kids that way. A lot of kids, and a stray shot could hit any one of them.
He took a chance and poked his head up. The gunman was at the front of the vehicle. One more step and Jake would be in the open, totally vulnerable.
He dove to the back of the vehicle as the shooter approached the side, the deadly weapon ready to fire at a split-second’s notice.
Jake sprang to his feet and raced across the street, running at an angle, praying the assassin wasn’t adept enough to hit a moving target.
A bullet whined past his head and he ducked, hit the ground, and rolled behind a tree at the edge of the sidewalk. He was safe for a couple of seconds, but a quick glance around the tree trunk showed his assailant still approaching.
He turned and raced down the sidewalk, but in a moment the shooter was directly behind him. Another bullet whistled past, dangerously close. He was fully exposed, and now the gunman was running after him—that would throw off his aim, but how long would it be until a bullet found its mark?
People were on the sidewalk ahead of him as well as across the street. Many ducked out of sight when they heard the shots, most still in danger from a stray bullet.
He dipped to the left and ran toward the side of a house. That would be safer for him and everyone around, and he hoped there was no one behind the dwelling.
Keeping low, he reached the side of the house and glanced over his shoulder. His pursuer was still coming, never giving up, determined and deadly.
He dashed to the rear of the house and looked around for a weapon, but with only seconds to spare, there was no time to waste.
Should he circle the house? The killer might have the same idea and could turn back and cut him off. He made a quick decision and ran to the rear of the property. He hopped a small fence dividing it from the neighbor behind, racing along the side of the house toward the next street over.
Another shot exploded, this time flattening itself against the brick wall of the house, inches from his head.
This maniac was persistent and seemed to be determined.
Jake finally reached the street and he crossed over, ducked behind a tree, and glanced back. The madman pursued.
An idea struck him. Carver Street and their house was one block over, on the next street parallel to where he was. He whipped out his cell phone, found the last inbound caller, and hit redial.
“Everything okay?” the officer asked.
“It’s Jake. I’m half a block away on foot and I’m being pursued by a gunman.” He took another glance and crossed the front yard of the house, heading toward Carver.
“I’ll be coming from beside the house to your left about three doors up,” Jake spoke quickly into the phone. “And he’s behind me.”
“We’re on it.” Jake heard the car door open. The officers would be prepared.
He glanced back as he hopped the hedge between the two dwellings. The hitman was close. He had lost some ground as he made the call. The gunman stopped and leveled his weapon.
Jake ducked as the assailant fired and the bullet missed its target.
He sprang to his feet, crossed the back yard at an angle, and raced up the side of the house. Carver Street was directly ahead. Just a few more seconds.
He hit the sidewalk, running fast, and crossed the street. A sideways glance showed the gunman but a moment behind.
Down the street, he saw the police cruiser parked in front of his house. The officers were out of the vehicle, heading toward him a step at a time, their guns drawn and ready. They’d seen him.