Granite Street
10:45 PM
Veronica reached for the shotgun hidden under the old British rover. A wave broke on nearby rocks, spraying up onto the roadway. A new set of headlights appeared, further down the road. The light revealed her crouched next to the front fender, a tire iron in one hand. She gave the impression of a stranded college girl attempting to change a tire in the rain. She was the perfect distraction.
The car splashed her as it passed and accelerated out of sight. Once again she was alone in the pale glow of the blinking emergency flashers. Tonight, she was the perfect lookout.
I turned away from the window and clicked on my flashlight to resume my search of the office. I panned the light across the clutter, bookcases, and generic art prints that covered the deep red walls. I brought my light to the wooden desk to carefully pick through the letters and papers scattered about. There were a couple of letters from Northfield that I added to a separate pile that I was accumulating. I moved to the drawers, picking through each and searching for any hidden files or compartments. The last drawer was secured with a lock that only served to slow me down. I used the nearby letter opener and popped the drawer open.
“Now we’re talking.” I pulled out a large clump of folders, and rested them on my knee to flip through. Most of the pages were tax returns and uninteresting bank statements. I shuffled through the folders and added a few of the records to my pile before turning to put them back. I spotted a leather-bound book at the bottom of the drawer. Setting the folders aside, I grabbed the book and found a few scrap notes with a jewelry box underneath. The notes had sketches of a glyph and a few random numbers, while the jewelry box was completely indistinct without any labels or indicators of what had been inside.
“Aw, you shouldn’t have.” I turned my light on the figure standing in the doorway to the office. Alison squinted at me through her dark bangs. I shook my head and aimed the light back at the drawer so I could replace the contents. I added the journal, notes and jewelry box to my collection on the desk.
“What is it?” I asked as I started scanning the bookcases. She stalked over and tossed her collection on the desk. I swept the light back to the desk and found a number of notebooks and pictures. The top was a photo of five people with their faces cut out.
“Somebody is a bit anti-social.” She began searching the opposite side of the room between the stacks of magazines. I turned back to the shelves, skimming a wide array of titles on religion and metaphysics.
“Where did you find it?”
“Table in the kitchen,” she replied. “You’re losing your touch.” I turned around to see her holding up a laptop that she had found.
“I haven’t gotten there yet.” I frowned.
“Uh-huh.”
Scanning one of the shelves, I spotted a strap between some novels. I pushed aside the books and found a digital SLR camera with a telephoto lens and a pack of memory cards. One of the largest difficulties for any investigator is identifying motive. When your suspect is an incoherent babbling mess, all you can do is work through the physical evidence, even if you have to go to questionable lengths to obtain that evidence.
“So how does he afford a place like this?” Alison asked, knocking over a pile of magazines.
“More like, why did he start it again?” I set the camera on the desk with the rest of our evidence, and returned to searching the bookshelves. She gave a snort, and knocked something else on the floor.
“Hey.” She snapped her fingers to grab my attention. She brushed back her jacket, and turned up the police scanner on her belt as it called out a report of suspicious activity near our location.
“That’s our cue.” I dropped the books. Alison grabbed a messenger bag from the nearby chair and tossed it to me. I scooped our collection of evidence into the bag and carefully added the camera and laptop. I tucked the memory cards inside my coat pocket. We really didn’t need any more encounters with the police this week.
I followed her winding path through the darkened house, down a few stairs and into the garage. She closed the window where we had entered while I made my way over to the side door. I stopped in the doorway and held the door open for her. Alison stepped out of the shadows and hesitated as she passed me.
“Your new recruit sucks as a look out.” Her dark eyes searched my face. I frowned at her as she moved closer. She placed a hand on my chest and pushed me against the door frame. I opened my mouth to interject but she pulled the messenger bag from my grip and stepped out into the night. I let out a heavy sigh, and shook my head.
“You make things too complicated for yourself.” A familiar female voice addressed me from the garage. I could just barely make out the shape of person leaning on the car. I clicked on my flashlight and found no one. I panned the light around the garage, noting bare unfinished walls, a few stacks of boxes and no possible place for anyone to hide.
“Connor!” Alison drew my attention back outside. The wind and rain caused ripples in the grass around her. “Get it in gear!”
“Right.” I spared another glance in the garage before I pulled the door closed and tested the lock. I jogged across the back lawn to Alison. The weather was getting worse, and we really didn’t need to be in the area when the patrol car got here.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, fine. Come on.” I led us through the undergrowth surrounding the property. I had to be losing my mind. I tripped over a fallen sapling and went down on one knee, sinking into the mud among the reeds.
“One of these days you’re going to listen to me.” I heard the voice again as a hand touched my shoulder, forcing me to look up. Alison looked worried, but didn’t say anything. The past week had pushed us too far. I wiped the rain from my face, and forced myself up and forward.
We emerged from the reeds onto the rocks just down from the rover. Between the moss and the surf it was a treacherous climb up to the road. A nervous Veronica appeared at the guardrail with tire iron raised.
“Chill, Sunshine.” Alison caught her wrist, twisting and forcing her to drop the weapon. Veronica pulled away and staggered back to lean on the rover.
“I thought you were going to tell me when you were coming back?”
“Plans change.” Alison pushed past her. She set the messenger bag on the hood and began to collect the tools scattered about.
“A patrol car has been dispatched to our location,” I corrected, with a glance at Alison.
“Did you at least find something?” Veronica crossed her arms. She looked cold and wet in her leather jacket.
“Maybe.” I nodded at the messenger bag.
“Save it.” Alison passed between us carrying the jack and toolkit.
“Right,” I conceded.
Veronica moved to open the passenger door. I bent to pick up the tire iron, and heard a heavy plink of metal. When I straightened up, I saw a pit in the hood. I stared at it for a moment until I heard glass crack and saw Alison stagger by the open tailgate. Realizing what was happening, I grabbed Alison, pulling her down, and yanked Veronica’s feet out from under her. She let out a yelp and fell next to the tire on the roadway. Another metal plink made a neat hole in the door above Veronica. Someone was shooting at us.
“What is wrong with you?” Veronica shouted.
“Stay down.” I placed my back to the car. As a professional consultant you tend to prepare for almost any situation, but even with training the last thing that crosses your mind is how to deal with a sniper trying to shoot you. I felt a sting on my hand and looked at the small graze that started to bleed. Looking at things from a tactical perspective, every situational strategy begins the same. You need to know where the target is.
“Connor?” I looked at Alison. “Got an idea or do we just sit here and wait for Gomer to get lucky?” She blew her bangs from her face and braced herself against the rear tire when something scratched the pavement between us. Maybe we were lucky, and they didn’t have a night vision scope.
“What’s going on?” Veronica asked.
“Shooter.” Veronica opened her mouth to say something, but instead reached above her head for the messenger bag. A metal plink punched another hole in the hood near her hand, and changed her mind.
“Really?” She glared at me.
“You wanted to join the firm,” I countered.
“Are people always shooting at you?” She leaned forward to draw a small revolver from behind her back. Another metal plink sound punched a small hole in the door above me.
“It’s a bit of a recent development.” I gave Alison a worried look.
“Seems to be a bit more frequent than I recall,” Alison retorted. When tracking a target at night, it’s possible to move without detection and even strike with accuracy if you have night vision but there are drawbacks. Another round scratched the ground between us.
Veronica clenched the weapon tight. We had to do something quickly before the sniper moved into a better position. Keeping low, I tossed Alison my cellphone and retrieved the hidden shotgun from under the rover. She used the phone to record a couple seconds of video from the back bumper. Alison indicated back and across the road. I nodded.
“Back and across the road.” I told Veronica. Alison reached under the back bumper and pulled out a pistol with a large barrel. I stared at it for a second until I saw her smirk. That increased our odds significantly. “Now!”
Alison rolled onto her stomach to fire under the back bumper while Veronica and I jumped up. Alison’s shot popped and exploded with an iridescent red glow against a tree, destroying our shooter’s vision. The flare revealed a black pick-up truck hidden in the brush. Veronica and I did our best to demolish the vehicle, firing round after round before the flare burned out.
“Move!” I stepped past Alison and jogged toward the truck. Just off the road shoulder, I heard the engine start. A second flare bounced off the hood when it bolted from cover. I dodged to the side and discharged a round to shatter a taillight as I fell into the brush at the roadside. Veronica put three rounds through the windshield and dove to the pavement, barely escaping the path of the truck. Climbing to my feet, I spotted something silver glinting in a mud puddle. I picked up a waterlogged cellphone and shook it out. We still had a chance of catching them.
Veronica was sputtering a string of obscenities when I got back to her. I helped her up, noticing a fresh scrape on her cheek.
“Come on, we can still catch them.” Veronica followed me back to the rover. I looked down at Alison sitting with her back to the tire. She stared up at me with concern.
“Um, Connor?” Tipping her cupped hands away from her side showed me they were covered in blood. In a breath, her eyes closed and she fell over.