[11]

6:00 PM

Katie released a breath and Daniel could tell she was glad to focus on something else. He was too. He was also glad the video showed someone else as the suspect. At least he could put that behind him.

“That guy never looked at the camera,” Katie said. “He made sure his face was hidden the whole time. He adjusted his body when he moved back into the building. He was careful about the way he carried Armstrong. Everything.”

“Which indicates he knew where the cameras were,” Daniel said. He sat back. “But that’s not really a big deal. All you have to do is look up and they’re right there.”

“True,” Katie said, “but think about it. This makes it seem more premeditated than spur of the moment, don’t you think? I mean, if you kill someone by accident, you react. You’re in panic mode, you’re not thinking about the cameras—or if you do, it’s after the fact. Probably too late to do anything about it because your face is already there. But this guy didn’t do that. He never once looked at the cameras.”

“Or if it was spur of the moment or an accident or whatever, he actually didn’t panic, but took time to think about what to do next,” Quinn said. He reached up and turned on the interior light as the sun had set and darkness covered the car.

“Except call the cops. He didn’t consider that,” Daniel muttered.

Katie nodded. “Which could mean he was up to no good in the first place and Armstrong had really bad timing and stumbled onto the murderer.”

Quinn rubbed his eyes. “But what would he be doing at the restaurant?”

“Trying to break in?” Daniel said. “But he didn’t have to break in, he had a key.”

“I think there’s one question we haven’t asked,” Katie said.

Quinn lifted a brow. “What’s that?”

“What was Armstrong doing there? You’d fired him a couple of weeks ago. Why would he be there at that time of night?”

Daniel blew out a low breath. “Yes, I’d like to know that as well.”

“Evidence showed that Armstrong was killed right there outside the restaurant. There were signs of a struggle and the crime scene investigators found drops of blood.”

“Armstrong’s?” Katie asked.

“Probably. His nose was broken. The blood is being tested to see if it matches his. If it doesn’t, then they’ll run it to see if there’s a match in the system.”

“So after Armstrong was dead—killed out of sight of the cameras—the killer brought him around to the basement.”

“But why hang him? Why not just leave him out of sight of the cameras?” Daniel asked. “Why risk exposing himself?”

Katie shrugged. “He may have been thinking he’d set you up.” She studied him. “He’s about your size. It’s obvious he has access to the building. He may have even known that you didn’t go out of town like you’d planned and that you’d be at the restaurant that evening.”

“Maybe.” He sounded doubtful, and she agreed it was probably a long shot. She looked at Quinn. “Did Francisco say when he’d get to the autopsy?”

“Soon. Tomorrow, I think.” Quinn rubbed his chin. “But I’ll remind him.” He pulled his phone from the clip on his belt and shot the man a text. “Armstrong didn’t have any bullet holes, no stab wounds.”

“Back the video up,” Daniel said. “Pause it right where the killer comes around the corner with Maurice on his shoulder.” Quinn did. “There.” Daniel pointed. “Look at his neck. I’d bet it was broken.”

Quinn zoomed in the screen and Katie saw what Daniel meant. “It’s hanging at a very strange angle. Almost rotated to where his chin rests behind his shoulder.”

“The killer incapacitated him with pain by breaking his nose, then followed up and broke his neck,” Katie murmured.

“This guy might be military,” Daniel said, not taking his eyes from the screen.

“Someone you served with who has a grudge?” Quinn asked.

Daniel shook his head. “We were a tight-knit unit. We still keep in touch. Those of us who made it back.” His eyes flashed with grief, then it was gone. “No one I served with would do this.”

The car jolted hard enough to fling Katie against the passenger door. “Hey!” She grabbed the handle. She stared out of the window in horror. It was dark outside, but the streetlights offered enough of a glow that she could see what was going on.

The backhoe driver had driven the machine right into Quinn’s unmarked car, and now the vehicle rocked up onto two wheels. Daniel hollered and Quinn let out a string of words she’d never heard him use before. Then the car slammed back down. She grabbed the handle and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open.

“My door’s crushed!” Daniel yelled from behind her.

“Mine’s jammed too,” she said. The backhoe had plowed into the passenger side of the vehicle. She looked for the machine and saw it in a blur. “Quinn! Get out while you can!” she cried. “He’s coming back for another hit.”

But Quinn didn’t act fast enough and once again the car shuddered with the impact of the backhoe. And this time it rocked the vehicle up and onto the driver’s side. She heard Daniel fall the length of the backseat even as gravity took her crashing into Quinn. He grunted.

The engine of the backhoe roared and the machine came once again to push against the bottom of the car. The vehicle went over onto the top. Windows popped. Metal creaked and groaned, giving a horrid death cry.

In her stunned state, Katie heard screams that filtered through the now-shattered windows. Screams of the workers? No, they were gone for the day. Or were the screams just hers? She managed to catch a breath, even crushed against Quinn like she was. “Quinn! Daniel! Are you okay?”

“He’s coming back, hold on,” Quinn shouted in her ear.

How did he know? The sound. She heard it now over the roaring in her ears. Another slam. She knocked her head against Quinn’s chin. He gave a grunt but wrapped one arm around her waist. “Daniel!”

He didn’t answer.

Katie crawled off Quinn and onto the center of the ceiling that now served as the base of the car.

“They’re in the car! Stop him!” Shouts from the outside. Who? Did she hear sirens? She desperately hoped so.

Through the broken back window, Katie had a glimpse of the tanklike wheels rolling toward them once again. Panting with a fear that had her sweating, she scooted toward the front seat passenger window and in the side mirror saw what the driver intended. The backhoe’s single arm was lowering. Heading straight toward the back of the vehicle. “Quinn, he’s going to crush us! Daniel!”

A panic attack threatened, but the desire to live was stronger. She wriggled so she could see between the two upside-down front seats. Daniel lay collapsed up against the window just behind the driver’s seat. His eyes were shut and blood ran from a gash on his temple. With adrenaline pumping through her, she reached through the seats and grasped the back of his shirt. “Quinn, help me.”

He moved beside her and added his arm, managed to snag Daniel’s belt. “Got him. Pull!”

Together they dragged Daniel into the front area of the sedan. He lay almost on top of Quinn in the cramped quarters.

In the side mirror, she caught sight of the backhoe arm dropping, felt the harsh jolt. The screeching crush of metal once again blistered her ears and the back of the car crumpled like a soda can. But the action popped the front windshield and then lifted the front of the car.

Glass rained over her. She ignored it. “We’ve got to get out now, Quinn.”

“Working on it. Go!”

“Daniel—”

“I’ve got him.”

Katie rolled out of what had been the front windshield and onto the ground. She turned back to help Quinn get the still-unconscious Daniel out the window. “Pass him through,” she grunted. Her wounded knee protested the weight she had on it, but she ignored the pain and flexed her fingers as she readied herself for Daniel’s weight. Quinn heaved him through the opening. She slid both forearms under his armpits. “Hurry, Quinn. If he drops that arm again—”

“I know. You got him?”

“Yes. Give him another shove.”

He did and she lost her balance in the tight space between the hood of the car and the ground. She went down, but didn’t let go of Daniel. He came with her part of the way, then stopped. Sweat dripped into her eyes.

“I can’t get enough leverage,” she panted.

Daniel groaned.

“Come on, Daniel, wake up.” With half of his weight resting on her, she wiggled to the side, braced her feet on the frame, and repositioned her arms under his armpits.

Quinn gave Daniel another push and she managed to roll with him. He stirred. “Now would be a really good time to wake up.” But Daniel didn’t open his eyes.

Quinn slid his upper body out of the car onto the ground beside them. “I’ll push, you pull.” She rolled out from beneath the front hood of the vehicle, ignoring the glass under her. She felt hands on her arm and someone yanked.

She was out from under the hood. She stood and turned back for Daniel, but someone had already pulled him out too. Dizziness hit her hard and she gasped.

Someone screamed, “Get him out!”

She spun to see the arm of the backhoe aimed straight for the exposed undercarriage of Quinn’s car.

Sirens sounded close.

“Quinn!”

His hands appeared in the opening and the people who’d stopped to help grabbed for them. They pulled as the arm of the backhoe dropped and slammed into the vehicle.