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COMBS SKIDDED THROUGH the intersection, and shouted into his phone. “They’re broadcasting now. From September’s house.”
“How’d Fish manage that?” Doty laughed, but there was begrudging admiration in the sound. “That opportunistic jackass would sell his mother for a story.”
Combs agreed. “September set it up. The secretary at the radio station said it’s all via speaker phone.” He approached an overpass and held his breath the tires wouldn’t skid. “September got them to confess with radio listeners as witnesses. Including Pike.”
“Save Pike for me.” She and Gonzales were ten minutes behind him.
He didn’t answer. He should have told someone else his suspicions. Pike doted on his grandson, it was the one soft spot he showed the world. Pike was a career cop, though, and you don’t destroy a career over a suspicion, not like his own had been.
“Okay, Gonzales dialed up the radio show. We’ll monitor the creeps as we go. Aw, shit.” A thump and yelp from Doty followed.
Combs waited. “You okay? Hey Doty?”
“Sonofabitch. We’re okay. But a mailbox is DOA.” She snorted. “Can’t see anything, and it’s slicker than snot out here.”
Combs removed his foot from the gas and waited until the tires regained purchase. He could hear the radio broadcast over Doty’s phone, and dialed his own down to avoid the echo. “Fish is keeping his mic muted so they don’t hear him over September’s phone.” The self-imposed muzzle must kill him.
“Ought to run Fish in for obstruction. The little shit should have called us, not waited until Teddy-come-lately decided to clue us in.” By the garbled sound of things, she was up to four or five sticks of gum. “Gonzales has the old guy on the line trying to keep him calm ‘til we arrive. Teddy’s dictating a visual for us, but there’s not much to see.” She paused. “He’s bent out of shape over the dog running away. What do I care about a stupid hound when we’ve got murdering scumbags to corral?”
Combs pressed the gas. This straight stretch of road, devoid of traffic or sudden curves, begged for speed. So did the situation. “We need backup. Pike is a crack shot.” His teeth ached, and he forced himself to relax his jaw. “No sirens, Doty. They don’t expect us, and our best chance is surprise.” Besides, he wanted first crack at whichever asshole murdered Mom.
“We’re pedaling fast as we can.” Doty’s tone, accompanied by more gum-popping, revealed her own frustration. Combs could hear a man in the background before she spoke again. “Gonzales is asking about the kid. Any word? Here, Gonzales, you take the phone.”
Combs’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He couldn’t help but think of his own kids. “Steven’s onsite. Supposed to be locked in a car in the garage, with Childress.”
“Hey Combs.” The detective sounded as frazzled as Combs. “The garage is on the backside of the house, right? That’s where they got Steven?”
Combs nodded, before realizing the man couldn’t see him. “You saw the same thing I did. Old carriage house, big double door that opens out. We can’t go in that way. Childress is with his kid. He’s a part of this. He’d alert the goons in the house.”
“There’s a workshop door on the far side. Doty agrees we should target that entry.”
She took back the phone. “Combs, you’re what, about five or ten minutes head of us? Find this Teddy character, and wait.” She paused, and must have removed her gum because the next words came direct and clear. “Wait for us. Do not—I repeat, do not go alone. We’ll stage from Teddy’s car and coordinate backup from there.”
“Uh, say again? You’re breaking up.” Combs disconnected before Doty could argue. He wouldn’t wait. There’d already been too much wheel-spinning. They owed him first crack. For Mom. Besides, Doty made it clear he wasn’t on their team. With his career already down the toilet, he had nothing to lose. More than that, September and Steven were out of time.
He turned up the radio in time to hear September’s contemptuous tone. “If Gerald was the first, you should have stopped while you were behind.”
Combs sucked in his breath. “Don’t do it, girl. Don’t bait them.” She wanted them on the record and so did he. But September was dancing a fine line. Just because she’d set up the sting with Fish didn’t mean help would arrive in time.
“Toss it.” The man’s command lacked inflection. Must be one of the shooters.
“Tell me first. What does it hurt? Soon as I give you the computer drive, you’ve won. And Steven loses.” September’s voice caught on the child’s name. “Your investment stands to make millions. And I’m dead. So humor me. Just who the hell are you people?”
September had courage, he’d give her that. “Hold on, I’m almost there.” Combs growled at the radio, willing her to survive.
