Emergency Response. Susan Sleeman

Emergency Response - Susan  Sleeman


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      “Exactly. I’ll have officers follow up and let you know if they convince anyone to break their silence.”

      “And the criminalists? They find any forensic evidence?”

      “Yeah, but you’re not going to like it.”

      “Go ahead.” Noah gritted his teeth.

      “They recovered a crumpled piece of paper with Darcie Stevens’s name on it. It was located where the shooter vaulted over the fence. Like he was trying to ditch it in case he got caught.”

      “Darcie’s name’s on it?” he repeated like a parrot.

      She must have heard him as she pivoted to look at him.

      “See for yourself,” Emerson said. “I’ll text a photo of it to you right now.”

      After drawing Darcie’s attention, Noah decided not to ask any additional questions before getting a look at the picture. His phone dinged and he opened the file. The scrap of paper held a handwritten list with the numbers one through three and a name listed behind each number. First place belonged to Leland King, second to Ramon Flores. Bright red slashes ran through each of their names. Darcie’s name took the third slot. Slash-free.

      A hit list.

       FIVE

      Noah was unable to formulate words to continue his conversation with his lieutenant. The more Noah looked at the picture, the more he was sure it was a hit list. And Darcie was the only one left to kill. She’d be dead already if she hadn’t gotten free from her attacker.

      Acid churned up Noah’s throat and he swallowed hard as he lifted the phone to his mouth.

      “If there was any question that the attack on Stevens was random,” Emerson continued, “there’s no question anymore.”

      Noah wanted to slam a fist into the wall. To do anything but stand there emotionless. But he didn’t want to tell Darcie about the list until he had a moment to process the news. “Has anyone had a chance to check out the other two names?”

      “It just landed on my desk, so no. I thought you’d want first crack at it.”

      “You’ve got that right.” Noah studied the names. “Maybe we’re reading too much into this and the list is just a reminder for the dude to call them.”

      “Seriously, Lockhart. You take a trip on the Alice in Wonderland express or something? You know as well as I do that the gangsters who live in that neighborhood don’t keep notes to remind themselves to call people. It’s a hit list, and once you process this lead, you’re gonna discover the men on the list are already dead.”

      “I know.” Noah wished he could say something to the contrary.

      Emerson was silent for a long time. “This personal thing with Stevens that we talked about earlier. Is it getting in the way of your objectivity, Lockhart? ’Cause if it is, I’ll pull you from this case so fast your head will spin.”

      “No, sir,” Noah replied even though he suspected it already had. “I’m good.”

      “See that it stays that way and keep me in the loop on your progress.” Emerson disconnected.

      Darcie came over and stood next to him. “What is it?”

      He wanted to shield her from the truth, but she had a right to know. He held out his phone.

      She stared at the screen, then looked up with narrowed eyes. “What is that?”

      “A list found in the forensic sweep of the area where the shooter went over the fence.”

      She returned to staring at the screen. “But who are these men?”

      “You don’t recognize the names?”

      “No. So why am I on a list with them and why are they crossed—” Her head shot up. “Oh, no! It’s a hit list, isn’t it?”

      “Likely,” he said reluctantly.

      “And these guys are already dead, right?”

      “I don’t know, but that’s what I aim to find out.” He pushed off the counter and shoved the phone into his pocket. “Jake mentioned at dinner that he isn’t on call and will be here all night, so I’ll head into the office and get started running their names.”

      “Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “Can’t you do it here? You can use our computer in the office.”

      “You want me here?’

      “Yes. Please.”

      “When it suits you, all of a sudden you want me to stay,” he said before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

      A hurt look flashed over her face and she backed up. “I want to know what you find out the minute you find it out. If that means you stay here to work, then that’s what I want.”

      He opened his mouth to reply, but she held up a hand.

      “I know that sounds cold and like I’m using you, but I’ll do just about anything to find out why this man is trying to kill me.”

      Noah wanted to refuse her. To march out the door and not come back, but he could never say no to those large brown eyes pleading with him, or ignore the concern for her safety that made his gut hurt. “I’ll get my laptop from the car.”

      He didn’t wait for her response, but headed for the front door. Outside, he let the icy wind coming from the north slap him in the face and cool his emotions. Emotions that had risen to the surface again. No surprise. Darcie did that to him.

      So what? He was a grown man and could certainly wrangle down some feelings to get the job done. He grabbed his computer and vowed not to let her get to him again.

      Back in the house, she escorted him to an office behind the family room and opened a desk drawer to retrieve a paper with the Wi-Fi log-in details.

      She handed the paper to him and went to the door. “Make yourself at home. After I finish in the kitchen, I’ll be in the family room if you need anything. Will you please come tell me when you’ve discovered something?”

      He set his laptop on the tidy desk. “This could take some time, you know. Are you sure you want me to hang around that long?”

      “I said whatever it takes and I mean it. I’ll be in the family room when you’re ready to talk to me.” She started to leave, then looked back. “One good thing about the list. At least it rules out my ex, right?”

      “Would seem to, unless he’s suddenly gotten into the business of hiring a hit man to kill people,” Noah joked.

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