Chapter 1
COLLATERAL: CHAPTER ONE
An urgent manhunt through Seattle’s Capitol Hill in the summer heat hadn’t been on FBI Special Agent Jane Cannon’s bingo card, but never let it be said she couldn’t adapt. “It’s all about timing.”
“No kidding,” fellow Agent Jenn Sullivan replied from the driver’s seat of the vehicle. “Four banks in three months? How are these guys getting away with it? They’re not that organized or skilled. Just lucky.”
“Sometimes luck is all you need,” Jane said just as the SUV they’d been looking for popped up in front of them.
“You’re a little freaky, you know that?”
Jane grinned and radioed in the suspects’ location.
The trio of bank robbers had hit a small bank and fled with the police on their tail. The suspects avoided the cops thanks to traffic then disappeared in the city. Only to pop up in front of Jane and Jenn, who’d been out on another case when they’d gotten the call about a robbery in progress.
Unfortunately, their current location, in a residential neighborhood near Volunteer Park, didn’t bode well.
“I don’t like finding them out here,” Jenn said as they flashed lights and gunned it after the SUV.
“Keep tight on them.”
“No, I think I’ll hang back so they can get away,” Jenn drawled, full of the sarcasm that made her one of Jane’s favorite coworkers…and friends.
Jane still didn’t know how to feel about getting so chummy with her peers. She liked a certain formality at work, especially after one of her last coworkers had nearly killed her. Then again, the ex-agent had nearly killed Jenn as well, so they had that trauma to bond them.
Studying the way the SUV kept speeding up and slowing down around traffic, Jane said, “He’s going to stop and let them out.”
“No way, they’re—Well, damn. You’re right.”
“Stop the car,” Jane ordered, already unbuckling her seatbelt.
“Jane, wait!”
The car had barely halted before Jane was out, chasing after one of the suspects while the other darted in the opposite direction. The one she followed, according to reports, had shot and wounded a police officer during his escape.
Yep. Caucasian, short brown hair, dark-blue tee-shirt, crossed pistol tattoos on right arm, jeans, scuffed Nikes. Got him.
“FBI. Stop!”
He peered over his shoulder as he ran, saw her, swore, and ran faster.
Toward Volunteer Park.
The lovely weather beckoned people outdoors, and the park would be full of families and children hoping to indulge in the playground, botanical garden, and art museum.
Jane ran faster and heard the squeal of tires. Probably Jen chasing the SUV. Jenn would also call for back up to nail the other suspect who’d escaped on foot.
Now Jane could only hope the idiots would be more caught up in escaping than in taking a hostage.
Jane was literally in hot pursuit. Today’s temperatures made it one of the warmest days on record for June.
Though known for their cool, wet days and grand vistas of Mt. Rainier, Seattle could get unreasonably humid in the summer, especially in the middle of June, turning everything hazy while the city sweltered.
Despite sweating under her collared tee-shirt and cargo pants, Jane indulged in the thrill of the hunt, picking up speed.
The suspect looked over his shoulder, saw her, and tried to run faster.
But Jane ran daily not only to keep in shape, but because she liked it. And she was fast. Like a deer, according to her family. None of them could keep up with her.
This guy, while close to her age, didn’t seem like a marathoner. The jerk was flagging.
She ran through the trails, cutting across grass and weaving in and out of people before heading back onto a path full of runners. People stopped and stared, pointing. She saw a few take out their phones to record.
Her focus narrowed on the dirtbag who thought it okay to target small banks, hurt the people working there for fun, and attack LEOs—law enforcement officers—who arrived to arrest them.
To date, this particular trio of thieves had shot two police officers and wounded civilians while stealing from four banks.
Jane’s anger fueled her. She’d nearly caught up to her suspect when he veered toward a group of children. The young woman with them froze in fear while the children stared, wide-eyed, unsure how to react. One screamed.
“Get out of the way,” she yelled, put on a burst of speed, and launched herself at the suspect, catching him at the knees.
He fell, and they rolled together in a tangle of limbs.
The woman with the children recovered to run to safety with her charges, along with a couple of other onlookers.
The suspect rose to his feet, panting. “Back off, pig.”
“FBI, you’re under arrest.” She gulped air as she stood and tapped the badge visible on her belt.
He struck out, landing a lucky blow on her shoulder. Though it hurt, his proximity allowed her to grab his arm, jack up his elbow, and twist him into a wrist lock.
He had weight on her and height, but she had tactical advantage.
She’d been battling men twice her size for over a decade, and she knew how to fight dirty.
Before he could punch her again, she doubled down on the wrist lock and had him shrieking in pain. He bent low under the pressure.
One hard knee to his face laid him out flat, blood dripping from a broken nose.
In seconds, she had him on his belly, groaning, his hands behind him as she cuffed him. A pat-down proved him unarmed.
She read him his Miranda rights while people clapped in the background.
As she came back to herself, her adrenaline racing, she hoped she hadn’t looked as if she enjoyed using brute force to take him down. Or that the crack of his nose and subsequent gushing of blood satisfied that urge in her to seek vengeance for the good people he’d hurt.
Because FBI Agent Jane Cannon was no vigilante, and she shouldn’t—didn’t—take pleasure in causing others pain.
Normally, she wouldn’t. Jane believed in justice, in law and order.
But she also believed that the guilty deserved to be punished. And this creep had intended to take children hostage.
The sweat dripped down her face, and her clothes stuck to her, the oppressive summer sun baking her.
A glance at the nearby kids, staring with excitement, assured her of their safety, and she started to relax, satisfied that she’d been a hundred percent in the right.
Fulfilling her duty to protect and serve.
The suspect under her unleashed a string of profanity, which had those children’s eyes growing wide.
But protecting and serving didn’t mean she had to color inside the lines all the time.
Jane leaned down and whispered, “One more word out of you, and I’ll accidentally snap your wrists. Both of them. Try defending yourself in prison without the use of your hands.” She wouldn’t have. But he didn’t know that.
That shut him up fast, and he lay motionless until the police arrived to take him into custody.
She gladly gave him up. “How’s the officer who got shot? Do you know?” she asked the nearest cop as she wiped her face with her short sleeve.
“Doing okay last I heard.” The officer grunted. “Nice takedown.”
“Thanks.” She nodded at him. “He’s unarmed. Ditched his weapon earlier in the chase.”
“I heard. We got him now.” The cop escorted the suspect with another officer away from the crowd. “Let’s go, buddy. This is not your lucky day.”
And speaking of lucky… Jane hurriedly dialed Jenn. “I got our perp. Did they find the other suspect who ran?”
“And hello to you, too. Not that I know of, but we did get the driver.”
“Good. Can you pick me up at the museum? I’m at Volunteer Park.” The spot was a short walk away and bound to be air conditioned.
“Sure. Be there in twenty.”
Jane disconnected, but before she could make her way to the museum, a little girl approached.
She wore shorts and a tank top, her dark curls balancing oversized pink sunglasses atop her head. The little girl held an unopened bottle of water and couldn’t have been more than seven or eight. “Excuse me.”
“Yes?”
“Did you catch the bad guy?”
“I did.”
“Wow. That’s cool. Are you a police officer?”
“FBI.”
“This is for you.” The girl handed Jane the water, and Jane thanked her, too hot and tired to reject it. She drank down every drop.
Before she could thank the kid again and leave, the girls’ friends surrounded Jane, along with several people in the park now brave enough to approach.
Jane spent an eternity waiting for Jenn, deflecting questions about her ongoing investigation into the bank robbers while answering questions about the FBI and performing what her boss liked to call “community outreach.”
Jane considered it a worthwhile endeavor. For someone else. Someone who liked dealing with masses of people.
Sometime later, Jenn smirked as she drove them back to the field office. “So, what was that all about? You being all social and friendly with Seattle’s citizens. You feeling okay?”
“Just doing my job, ma’am.” Jane would rather face another armed suspect than deal with the public.
Unfortunately, Jenn knew that and mocked her all the way back to the office.
But at least they’d caught two of the suspects. Now to find that last one before he hurt someone else.