ROY
Roy and Duke raced east on the 210 Freeway.
“Thank God, we were coming back from Palmdale, and didn’t pass the 210 exchange,” Duke said.
Roy nodded but said nothing, keeping his eyes focused on the roadway as he weaved in and out of the freeway traffic.
“There’s the air unit…about two o’clock,” she said.
He glanced at the sky and saw the LAPD airship heading east as well.
Duke took their portable radio and switched it over to the Foothill Division frequency.
Immediately, there was a transmission from the helicopter. “Air 11, I’ve got a black SUV, eastbound on Sunland, at Johanna Ave, being followed by a silver Lexus at a high rate of speed. We need some black-and-whites up here, Code 3.”
Radio chatter exploded as Foothill patrol units responded.
“Yes!” Roy yelled. “We’re coming up to the Sunland offramp. The silver Lexus is Amber. We’ll be able to take over the pursuit.”
The dispatcher broke in. “Attention all units, additional on the two vehicles eastbound Sunland. We’ve got a female on the line advising she is a plainclothes LAPD officer driving the silver Lexus. She advises the suspect is armed and dangerous and wanted for kidnapping and a possible 187. She also advises there are two juvenile kidnap victims in the back seat of the SUV.”
“Who did Peck attempt to kill?” Duke murmured. “Do you think it was Amber?”
The dispatcher then came back on the air, assigning a Foothill unit to a possible 187 homicide that had just occurred on Hillview Terrace.
“Sounds like Peck dumped somebody before going on the run,” Roy said. “Activate our red light, and I’ve got the siren. Hold on. I’m coming off the freeway hot.”
Luckily, they had the green light as they skidded off the freeway, eastbound, onto Sunland Boulevard.
“Air 11, the suspect vehicle and the Lexus are passing under the 210 Freeway, and it looks like an unmarked police vehicle is joining the pursuit. All vehicles are approaching Wyngate.”
“Air 11, the suspect is southbound Wyngate—standby, he’s entered the apartment complex southeast corner of Sunland and Wyngate. Suspect bailed and is on foot southeast through the buildings. Maroon shirt, black jeans.”
Roy had just driven under the 210 Freeway overpass.
“Air 11, the driver of the Lexus, a white female, gray shirt and black jeans is approaching the black SUV. The male suspect is running north through the buildings and approaching the pool.”
A Foothill patrol unit advised they were about two minutes out.
Roy looked at Duke. “Get ready. I’m going to drop you off with Amber and the kids, and I’ll go on the other side of the apartment complex to try to intercept Peck.”
Duke said nothing, just nodded and unhooked her seatbelt.
They turned southbound, on Wyngate, and thirty feet later, Roy skidded to a stop.
Duke jumped out and ran down the driveway of the apartment complex.
“Air 11, the suspect ran north of the pool and is now eastbound, about to exit the apartment complex onto Newhome Avenue.”
Roy accelerated down Wyngate, praying it crossed Newhome.
“Air 11, to the plainclothes unit, turn north on Newhome, and the suspect should cross right in front of you. He’s walking now, not running. Maroon shirt, black pants.”
Roy followed the air ship’s directions and seconds later, a lone male wearing a maroon shirt and black pants came into view crossing the street.
Roy, with his red light still visible, and his siren sounding, accelerated.
The male turned, pulled a gun, and began firing at the detective car.
Roy stomped on the gas pedal and sped toward the suspect who still fired at him. The impact was swift.
Peck was launched up and over the hood and into the air.
“Air 11, we need an RA for vehicle versus ped at Newhome south of Sunland.”
The dispatcher acknowledged the request for a rescue ambulance.
Roy pulled to the curb, grabbed the portable radio, and ran back to Peck’s body, which was bent at awkward angles and lifeless. He quickly felt for a pulse.“5K50, the suspect is a male twenty-five to thirty years, not conscious but breathing. Appears to have multiple fractures and contusions.”
“5K50, roger.”
A patrol unit arrived and began setting up a crime scene.
Roy’s cell phone rang. “Amber?”
“I’ve got Gage! He seems to be okay. She dyed his hair red, and he won’t let go of me, but I think he’s okay.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll be tied up with Force Investigation for a while, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Yeah, we’re all in for a long night. I witnessed Peck killing one of his working girls. I’ll stay in touch.”
“Amber?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t let our little boy out of your sight.”
“Count on it.”