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Angie appeared in the doorway and gestured for him to come inside. Mac nodded. He tapped Janet on the wrist, and pointed, and then he got up to follow Angie back to her slide show.
“Need you to see this,” Angie said. “Janet too.”
Janet was still talking to Leatherstocking on the phone as she followed the two of them into the house. Shorty had turned the wall of the dining room into a projection screen, and on the screen was a familiar face. Two familiar faces.
“Do you want to tell me why Anthony Whalen was here last night?” Shorty demanded.
Anthony Whalen, piece-of-shit cop, whose rich venture capitalist father bankrolled the Police Defense Fund. Mac thought the fund had taken on a life of its own, with a lot of small donors contributing. And then there was that list of names Leatherstocking just gave him.
Anthony Whalen was sitting in the driver’s seat of a car. Mac visualized the street outside the Fairchild House. He would have been just north of here. And the man walking toward him was McBride.
“What were you shooting when you got that one?” Mac asked Angie.
Angie looked at the date stamp on the photo. “It was right after the sniper shot at you,” she said, and her voice shook a bit as she got that last out. “You went after the sniper, and I was photographing you.”
Shorty clicked the mouse back a few frames. Angie had been behind Lorde, apparently, as they all had exited the house. When Mac said, ‘drop,’ she’d dropped to the porch floor, but then she’d raised her camera and started shooting.
Because that was what she did, Mac thought. And there were some amazing shots in the sequence Shorty was clicking through. There was Mac taking off his shirt to use as a compress on the cop who had been shot. Then one where Mac had switched off with Joe over the cop who had been shot. A couple of Mac running across the street, heading after the sniper.
And then she’d followed McBride with her camera when he abandoned his men and left the scene.
“That’s the second unmarked car,” Angie explained. “I told you there were two.”
So she had. “You’re sure it’s the same one that you saw up at the reservoir?” Mac asked.
She shrugged. “Don’t know that much about cars,” she admitted. “But, a tan, four-door sedan? I saw it setting the perimeter at the reservoir. So then when I saw McBride head to it, I took some photos. That bastard ran!”
And with her crime scene background she’d photographed him — catching the profile of the driver in the process.
But Sherry Grant had only listed off one unmarked. Mac frowned. “Any of those shots capture the license plate?”
Shorty clicked through the next three shots as McBride got in the back seat of the car and they drove away. “Maybe this one?” Mac peered over his shoulder to look on the screen. The wall distorted the photo too much for the detail he needed. But yes, the plate had an SP on it. Someone was allowing that bastard to pretend to be a cop?
Angie had shot the photos so rapidly it was almost like watching a stop-action video. The best one of Andrew Whalen was one where he’d rolled his window down. He was pointing back at the house, and McBride turned to look backward.
And that’s when they’d seen Angie shooting the photos, Mac thought.
In the next frame, McBride had gotten in the back seat. Could be several reasons — it would be the closest when he crossed the street for one. He might have been using Andrew Whalen as a driver.
Or there was someone else in the car. Which would make sense if Andrew Whalen had truly been up at the reservoir.
“Is someone else in the car?” Mac asked.
Shorty zoomed in on the photo and did something to sharpen the image. “Yeah,” he said. “But all I can see is the back of the head. No more than that.”
Mac looked at Stan Warren. “Is there a way to find out who that unmarked is checked out to?”
Stan nodded. “When Nick gets here, have him call and ask,” he advised. “Less obvious than if the FBI does it.”
Naomi stuck her head into the room. “Mac, there’s a call for you on the house phone,” she said, a bit perplexed.
Mac frowned. Did she still have a land line? Why would someone call him on it? He went out to the kitchen and took the phone. “This is Mac.”
“This is Terrell, the guy you shot yesterday?” a voice said.
“Yeah? How did you get this number?” Mac asked. The spotter from the sniper’s nest?
“It’s listed. I didn’t know you would be there, but I figured it was a place to start to get your number. Couldn’t go through the cops, now can I?”
Mac snorted. He guessed not. “So you found me,” he said. “What’s up?”
“So I’ve been talking to Lorde,” he said. “I may get out of this without prison, and I owe you. I didn’t see any way out. And I’ve got family. So there’s something you should know. You’ve got a rep, and maybe a heads up will give you the edge you need.”
“A heads up is always useful,” Mac agreed.
“So last night, McBride tried to have you killed,” Terrell said. He snickered. “Tried three times and failed. And don’t think people didn’t notice. But, there’s a list — a hit list, if we’re being melodramatic. People didn’t think the case would get this far, to be honest. And here we are, a month out from the trial of the century.”
“Century is young yet,” Mac said dryly.
“True,” Terrell agreed. “But there’s a list, and there’s a reward. To put it bluntly, there’s a price on your head. When the Burmese dealers asked for a look-away including you being elsewhere for the evening, McBride decided he’d go after that bounty as well. He called in some favors, because running an operation like last night’s wasn’t cheap. The drug dealers weren’t paying anywhere near enough to be split among the number of officers he needed. I don’t know the funding source.”
Mac thought of the list of names Leatherstocking had given him. “I probably can find that out,” he said.
“Probably,” Terrell said. “And better you asking questions than me. I plan to keep my head down, and use this bullet wound to stay on sick leave — if I ever get off administrative leave.”
“If you’re lucky, you’ll be on admin leave until after the trial,” Mack observed.
“Also true,” Terrell said. “But there are more names than yours on that list.”
“Go on,” Mac said.
“I told Lorde, but he just nodded,” Terrell said. “I guess he already knew about it. But I don’t think he’s told the people on the list, and after last night, I think you, at the very least, need to know. Last night we saw how far they’re willing to go to get you — and they’re willing to put civilians at risk.”
Mac wondered if Terrell had served, because he seemed to have people segmented like he did — and targeting the civilians wasn’t OK.
“Lorde probably is already considering how to provide safety,” Mac said. “But I agree with you — those of us on the list need a heads up. So me? Who else?”
“The witness list for the trial,” Terrell said. “Have you seen it?”
“No,” Mac said. “I hear they’re keeping it secret to prevent intimidation.”
Terrell snorted. “Hardly a secret among the police department. You should get your hands on it if you can. But there are three ‘civilians’ that worry me. You, your editor, and that photog top the list. Women? They’ve got bounties on women!”
“The photog?” Mac asked, startled. He could have guessed Janet and he were on it.
“Yeah, they’ve got a real hard-on about her — they think she should be charged with murder for Malloy’s death. She killed a cop, and walks? That goes down hard.”
“Well, he wasn’t a cop at the time,” Mac pointed out. “And his finger was on the trigger, and that gun was pointed at me. So it doesn’t go down hard with me at all.”
Terrell snorted. “When you put it that way,” he said. “And there’s another name that worries me. The bounty on him is even bigger than the one on you and that gal.”
“Name?”
“Joe Dunbar,” he said. “They don’t like him. And you and I both know it’s because he’s Black. They don’t like me much either — but I was useful. And I saw to it that they saw that. But Joe is Black, and he betrayed them. Harder to get at Rodriguez now that he’s in IA. But Rourke takes Dunbar’s willingness to testify as a personal thing.”
“Where is the money coming from!” Mac said with frustration. “I get that Whalen put a lot of money into the Police Defense Fund. But he’s broke or nearly so. A bounty on a cop? By cops?”
“Don’t know,” Terrell said. “Not my end of the game, you know? And I’m out of it, Davis. I just wanted to tell you that — and to make sure you knew about the bounties. I hear that photog is your gal. And since she saved your life and all, you should know the danger. And Joe is a brother. An uptight priss, but still. Not a lot of Black cops. So we’re even?”
“Even,” Mac agreed.
There was a dial tone in his ear. Mac hung up the phone.
He turned to Stan Warren who was hovering, listening in. “You get all that?”
Warren nodded, not even looking apologetic for eavesdropping.
“Was the FBI notified of a hit list? I’m going to assume you two at least are on it.”
“Probably,” Warren agreed. “But bounties? That’s new. And no, the DA’s office hasn’t shared their witness list with us. We haven’t asked — although both Rand and I were interviewed. Were you and Janet?”
Mac nodded. “All of us — with Leatherstocking sitting in. A lot of press rights laws to consider.”
“Did they indicate if they were going to call any of you as witnesses?” Warren asked.
Mac shook his head. “No. The ADA wasn’t happy with the idea of calling a reporter to the stand. But he’s in a corner — basically he’s got cops or reporters or computer hackers.”
Stan Warren snorted.
“Did you know about Angie?” Mac asked.
“The SPD has closed us out, Mac,” Rand said. “It is a matter of discussion in our office. At what point do we confront that? And how?”
Mac nodded. Well, he’d see to Angie’s protection — whether she liked it or not.
He looked back at Stan Warren. “So, Joe? He’s up at the north precinct tonight.”
Warren grimaced. He looked at Rand, who was standing in the doorway to the dining room, then back to Mac. “Call him.”
Joe listened to what Mac had to say. “Interesting,” he said. “There doesn’t seem to be a problem, but I’ll stay alert. Keep your phone on.”
“Take sick leave, Joe,” Mac said quietly. “Get out of there.”
“I can’t do that — the danger here isn’t any more than what I face downtown every day, Mac,” Joe said bitterly. Mac thought that was a hell of a way to have to live. Did the DA’s office know about this?
“And I’m needed here,” Joe continued. “It’s a mess. But Sherry is good people, and Adams seems to be an OK guy to work with. McBride hasn’t been in to turn in his badge and gun, however. Adams isn’t sure what to do about it. Quite frankly, I’m not either.”
Mac winced. Yeah, that was a problem.
“So I’m on alert,” Joe repeated. “Keep your phone on.”
Hell yeah, he would. Mac still was considering going up there this evening, and to hell with any accusations of paranoia. He could live with that. “Call me,” Mac said. “False alarms are just fine. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah, Marine,” Joe said. “I hear you.”
And Mac had to be satisfied with that — for now.
Nick Rodriguez had shown up shortly after that, looked at the list of people who were backers of the Police Defense Fund, and listened to Mac’s concerns about what Joe was going through. Start there, Mac thought. Surely Nick knew about the hit list and bounties. He wasn’t sure which was more troubling — that Nick would know and not give him a heads up about Angie, or that he didn’t know.
“Joe didn’t tell me,” Nick said at last.
“Probably didn’t want to worry you,” Mac said.
“It damn well should worry me,” Nick said grimly. He looked at the photo of McBride and Andrew Whalen. “And that worries me as well.” He sighed. Mac could see he was hurting, and tired.
“I’ll talk to Lorde,” Nick said. “We’re going to need to look at protection for all of our witnesses when the trial starts. And vetting the protection is going to be a bitch. We should have been thinking farther ahead. But this damned case is complex, and just getting a handle on it has been hard.”
“Who was the third man last night?” Mac asked. “There had to have been someone, right?”
Nick nodded. “No one who seemed out of place, unfortunately. So not McBride, or Hightower, the two prime candidates.” He looked at the list of names Mac had shown him — including the supervisor of the jail. “Guess maybe there didn’t need to be an outsider.”
“Was he there when you got there?” Mac asked.
Nick considered that. “Yes,” he said. “When I got there. I don’t remember seeing him after that, but that doesn’t mean much. I was talking to Janet, and then Leatherstocking. I was in and out of the monitor room. He could have been there — or he could have left. But we’ll figure that out.”
Mac didn’t doubt it. Nick was pissed.
“Go home, Nick,” Stan said. “We’ve established a safe house here for Daniel and Myint — Naomi has agreed, and we’ve negotiated a rental fee. Go get some sleep. Monday, you can start the next tier of the internal investigation.”
Nick hesitated, then nodded. “Too tired, too much in pain to argue,” he admitted. “I’m learning my limits. Sucks.”
Mac snorted. He just bet it did. “We’ll call if things change,” he promised. The bounty list could wait. Stan was right — Nick needed to get some rest.
“You realize if they’re going after the witnesses — that is why you’re worried about Joe, right? If they are, you are going to be high on that list, Mac,” Nick warned. “You and Angie and Janet.”
Mac nodded. So Nick knew something. Mac found it interesting that he slid Angie’s name into his warning. “A month,” he said. “Until the trial starts. Then how long?”
“Depends,” Nick said. “They could all plead out, and we’re done in a week. Or it could drag on for a month. Maybe more, given all the defendants.”
Mac winced at that. Did Janet know that? Probably.
Nick left when Janet threatened to call his wife and have her come get him.
“He pushes himself too hard,” Janet said with worry in her voice after he left. Mac just nodded.
Dinner was quiet. Most people at the table were too absorbed in their own thoughts to want to talk. And the topics weren’t ones you wanted to discuss in front of non-participants like Naomi’s upstairs boarders. And really not in front of Myint or Daniel. Daniel was losing that vibrating fear at least. Hard to be afraid with Naomi bustling about as if this was just a normal big dinner to be served.
Myint was watchful, shut down. And Rand was watching him closely. Mac wondered what was going on in that part of the story, but it could wait. He seemed to be developing a long list of things that could wait. He needed a nap. No one protested when he went downstairs and sacked out on that couch. He could — probably should go home. But no one seemed to be leaving. They’d been through this before. You worried that if someone was out of your sight they could be in danger. Probably were in danger.
When he woke up later, the house was silent. He glanced at his phone, it was 10 p.m. He should get Angie and they could go home, he thought. His phone buzzed in his hand. An incoming text?
Joe.
We’re in trouble.
Mac glanced at the time stamp — it had just come in, the second buzz, he thought. Probably the first buzz was what woke him up.
On my way, he sent back. He got up, found his shoes, and checked his ankle holster. Grabbed his keys. He went up the stairs quietly.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Rand asked. He was sitting in the living room talking to Naomi and Angie.
Mac stopped. “Where is everybody?”
“Stan and Janet went home,” Rand replied. “So did Shorty. He said to call him. Your laptop is in the dining room. Everyone else is either upstairs in their room, or downstairs in theirs. You didn’t even roll over when I escorted them down. Losing your touch?”
“Sleep-deprived is not a good look,” Mac said. “But I wouldn’t recommend getting too close.”
“No,” Rand agreed. “I gave you wide berth — even if you were sacked out on what is my bed for the night.”
“I wish I could do better for you,” Naomi said regretfully. Rand smiled at her.
“I’m fine down there,” he assured her. “Or up here on this couch. But I can’t be farther away from the exits than that. I’ll be fine.”
Angie was just looking at Mac skeptically. “Where did you say you were going?” she demanded. “Let’s get back to that question.”
Mac snorted. Yeah, he wasn’t getting out of here without an explanation. “Got a text from Joe,” he said. “I’m going up to check in with him.”
Angie just nodded and stood up. Mac watched incredulously as she found her camera bag. “You’re not going with me!”
She looked at him, head tilted. “Might as well,” she said. “It will save me having to come rescue you later.”
Rand burst out laughing, and even Naomi was smiling. Mac grinned ruefully. Might be a while before he lived that down. What the hell, they needed to talk anyway.
“Well, come on then,” he said, opening the door, and gesturing for her to go out. He ignored Rand’s surprised expression and draped his arm around her shoulders as they walked out to his SUV.