Chapter 22
Ireturned fire, my pistol hammering against my palm, blasting shots at the window.
More bullets pierced the door. There were two shooters outside. They closed in on the apartment from either direction.
Jack pulled Kara into the bathroom, closed the door, and took cover. I backed into the kitchen and held up at the door frame. I did a mag dump on the perps, then dropped the magazine, and slapped in another one.
The whole exchange lasted a few moments, but it seemed like hours. My pulse pounded, throbbing in my ears, and my heart punched against my chest. The smell of gunpowder drifted about the small apartment. Adrenaline sizzled my nerves.
Footsteps pattered away, rumbling the walkway as the assailants took off.
With caution, I advanced across the living room, held up by the front door, then pulled it open. I swung my barrel outside and swept it across the walkway.
The perps were long gone. I didn't see them, but the main gate squealed and clanked. Footsteps slapped against concrete. The other punk must have gone out through the back exit.
A car door opened and closed. Tires screeched.
I took off, sprinting after them. I plunged down the steps, barreled through the courtyard, and pushed out the gate in time to see a black sedan speed out of the lot. Tires squealed as it turned onto the road.
There was no license plate.
The black-tinted windows made it impossible to see inside the vehicle. It was the same car that had followed us before.
The other punk must have taken off on foot. There was no way he could have gotten around the building to the sedan that quickly.
I hustled back up to Lori's apartment and stepped inside. By that time, a few curious neighbors had peered through blinds. Nobody was stupid enough to open their door and poke their head out.
"Is everybody okay?”
"Affirmative," Jack shouted from a bathroom.
He pulled open the door that had a few bullets embedded in it.
Kara climbed out of the shower stall and stepped into the living room with him, looking frazzled.
"I'd say we’re onto something," Jack said.
I called the sheriff, and it wasn't long before first responders swarmed. Dietrich snapped photos, and Brenda examined the remains. Forensic investigators chronicled the scene, marking spent shell casings on the second-floor walkway and in the courtyard.
Sheriff Daniels didn't look thrilled. "Want to tell me what's going on?"
"It's a long story," I said.
"I've got time. What were you doing here?"
"Well, it's a little complicated."
His annoyed eyes burned into me. "Out with it.”
I pulled him aside and filled him in on the situation in a hushed voice, trying to make it sound as reasonable as possible.
It didn't sound reasonable at all.
"Let me get this straight. You’re palling around with a suspect, aiding and abetting a potential felon. Does that about sum it up?”
"That might be a harsh characterization, but…”
The sheriff's glare persisted. His eyes flicked to Kara and JD. Then he muttered, "If I condone this nonsense, I'm as guilty as you two are.”
"I don't think she killed Mr. Yan. She's the only link we have to finding who did. Clearly, somebody doesn't want her talking. We are on the right track, and you know it.” It was obvious. “The perfume girl at the mall gets assassinated just days after she poisoned Kara?”
"Allegedly poisoned. You've got no proof of any of this.”
"Well, all the proof you need is right there on the floor," I said, pointing toward the remains.
“She’s not telling anybody anything.”
“You’re right,” I said, not hiding my sarcasm. “This is probably all some random coincidence.”
A tight breath escaped his nostrils. After a long pause, he hissed, "Get outta here, and take her with you. Since you two discharged your weapons, you’re both on leave, pending the outcome of an investigation.”
It was a matter of procedure.
Daniels continued in a hushed tone, “I don't want you to let that woman out of your sight.
Get the data she stole, find out what this is all about, and figure out who killed Mr. Yan.
If the shit hits the fan, I'm going to deny we ever had this conversation.
And I tell you this, Wild. If it turns out she's guilty, you two can kiss your asses goodbye.
If you're not careful, you might be volunteering somewhere else, like a federal correctional facility.”