“No, not quite, but I think you’ll want to see this. Can you come over to the west side, her apartment?”
“On my way.”
Carly called and woke Nick up without even thinking if she should or not. He said he’d pick her up and they’d drive over together. Her mind churned with possibilities while she splashed water on her face and dressed. She could have asked Pete more, but he wanted her to see it. What could it be?
She jogged out to the curb as Nick pulled up.
“Any more information?”
“No, I didn’t call him back. He said I needed to see it.” She looked at him and arched her eyebrows. He nodded and drove.
Carly noticed he’d worn his shoulder holster and brought his handheld radio. Officers had the option to bring their issued radio and charger home or leave them in their lockers to charge. Carly usually opted for the latter. Sergeants didn’t have a choice—they were to always have their radios in case they were called to a scene straight from home. Carly figured his sergeant’s instincts had kicked in and he was treating this like a callout. Fine with her. She had her small off-duty weapon and liked the fact that they were both armed.
They reached Mary Ellen’s street and were greeted by the flashing ambers of several emergency vehicles—fire, police, and an ambulance.
Nick parked in the first open space, and they negotiated a path through vehicles and fire hoses. The air was thick with the odor of fire, of burnt substances other than firewood. Carly could smell burning plastic, charred fabric, and unknown nasty, smoky smells. It looked as though the entire neighborhood was up and watching the scene from behind the police tape. As they stepped around a pumper, she saw the source of the aroma. Mary Ellen’s apartment building was almost completely destroyed.
Carly wasn’t an arson specialist, but as she looked at what still stood, it appeared as though most of the damage was on the second floor.
“Carly, Nick.” Pete waved them over.
“What happened?”
“Possibly an arson fire that started on the second floor. Two residents didn’t make it out in time: an elderly couple died.”
“Did anyone see anything?”
Pete pointed to a paramedic rig where an older man was being treated. His face was blackened with soot, and he was wearing an oxygen mask while a medic bandaged his hands. “Mr. Frances heard voices. His apartment was directly below Mary Ellen’s. Two men were looking for her right before the fire started.”
“But he didn’t see them.”
“No, but he says they just missed her. He heard her moving around in the apartment about an hour before they showed up.”
“He’s sure it was her?” Nick asked.
“He thinks it was. He was taking the trash out when he saw her leave. But she was in a hurry and he only caught a glimpse of her running down the stairs and out the back. He called his friends who lived on that floor to check, but they hadn’t seen her.”
“Can we talk to them?”
“Afraid not. They’re the pair who didn’t make it. That’s how Mr. Frances got burned. He knew the old man used a walker and that they’d never get out in time. But the fire burned hot and fast. He was overcome before he could get upstairs.”
Carly felt as though the wind had just been kicked out of her.
“It gets worse,” Pete said. “Come and look at this.”
Carly and Nick followed Pete through puddles of brackish water and over hoses. He stopped in front of the building. There on the porch steps Carly had walked up a few days before, spray-painted in black paint, were the words I want what is mine. Give it back or die.
• • •
Carly and Nick stayed at the fire scene until the cleanup was almost finished. They had a minute with Mr. Frances before he was taken to the hospital. In a raspy, pained voice he told them that he’d heard two male voices calling out to Mary Ellen. Then it got quiet, and the men left in a hurry. The fire started right after that. He began crying for his friends and couldn’t talk anymore.
“Arson is saying unofficially that the fire started in apartment seven and that an accelerant was used,” Pete said. He’d walked over to them after talking to the arson investigator.
“Unofficially?”
“It will be official later today, after the lab confirms.”
“Mr. Frances couldn’t say if the men he heard sprayed the steps?” Nick asked.
Pete shook his head. “Poor guy lost his home and his friends.” He took a sip of water. “This tells me that Sperry is desperate. Torching his own property, probably in an effort to smoke Mary Ellen out. And he’s going in for the scorched-earth philosophy. Two innocent people were caught in his tantrum.”
Carly shivered, thinking about Mary Ellen—on her own, running from a thug like Sperry. “If he finds her, he’s not going to ask nice for what he wants. Nick and I were going to check out the catch basin today.”
“Maybe we should head over there now.” Nick pointed toward his truck.
“You know that’s a DCC, right? Last time I checked the log, nothing was down there.” Pete frowned. “I think it was yesterday when I looked at the log—the days are running together. Anyway, it was clean as a whistle.”
“Sorry, I just have a feeling we should check again.” Carly shot Nick a grateful glance.
“Don’t be sorry; I trust your instincts. Can’t hurt to take a look. Let’s go.” He grabbed Carly’s hand. “See you, Pete.”
Carly glanced up at the pink-tinged sky as she turned to leave with Nick. She was tired of breathing the noxious scent of the smoldering apartment building.
“Nelson will scream that he can’t approve overtime,” Pete called out to them.
“Doesn’t matter,” Carly said. “The girl needs to be found.”
“We’ll find her,” Nick said as they climbed into his truck.
“I agree with Pete: Sperry is desperate. Burning down the apartment, killing two innocent people. Mary Ellen will have no chance if he finds her first.” She fought rising anxiety as Nick drove away from the fire scene and toward the flood control channel. Streets were just starting to fill up with early-morning work traffic.
The catch basin was just past the police station and a few blocks south of the city’s southernmost limit. Hidden from view, the area was flat and sheltered. It wasn’t a place a person could stumble upon. And no matter how often holes in the fence were patched after the area was cleared, like weeds, homeless camps would spring up.
The access road that led to the catch basin was an unpaved public service road. Public service needed access to the flood control in order to inspect the area and keep it clear of debris. They’d placed a heavy gate across the drive not far from the pavement turnoff. The gate was meant to keep squatters away.
Nick approached the turn a few minutes later. He started the turn as a blur of red came barreling toward them, a billowing cloud of dust behind it.
“Nick, look out!” Carly reached a hand out and gripped his arm. He swerved right to avoid a collision as the little car rocketed past them. The correction threw her into him.
“That was Alex’s—”
She didn’t finish her sentence as a second car came roaring their way.
A black Town Car burst through the dust cloud. Nick had started to follow the red car but stopped as the black car bore down on them. The rear window on the driver’s side slid open, and Carly saw a gun barrel.
“Gun!” Nick yelled, throwing himself sideways to push Carly down.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Three shots rang out, shattering the windshield. A shower of safety glass rained down on both of them, and a gritty burst of dust poured in the gaping hole.
“You okay?” Nick asked.
“Fine, fine. Go after them. I’ll call it in.”
Brushing glass from himself, he threw the truck in gear and sped after the black car.
Carly grabbed his radio and, using his call sign, 1-Sam 20, raised the dispatcher with emergency traffic.
The call was a 998—shots fired—and she knew every cop in the city who was listening would be heading their way to help if they could.
She could see the black car, but there was no sign of the red one. Traffic was getting heavy with morning commuters, and the Town Car nearly caused an accident.
“I can’t read the plate yet,” Carly said, leaning forward. The radio chatter told her units were coming. “What happened to the red car?”
“I don’t know,” Nick shouted, intent on his driving and the car they pursued. Without a windshield, street noise was loud. “I sure appreciate the way a black-and-white would handle in this type of situation.”
“You’re doing fine—oh no.” Carly watched in horror as the Town Car clipped a school bus and sent it careening onto the sidewalk filled with pedestrians.
31
“IT’S A GOOD THING the bus hadn’t picked up any children yet.” Nick handed Carly a bottle of water from the paramedics on scene. She took the water gratefully and drank a quarter of it in one swallow. They both had little cuts from the safety glass. Nick’s were on the side of his face, and Carly had a couple on her arms. They weren’t seriously hurt, and miraculously, neither was anyone else. The bus had swerved onto the sidewalk and smacked into a traffic signal pole but missed hitting any of the people in the way.
The bus driver herself was shaken but didn’t need medical attention. The black car and Trejo’s red sports car had disappeared.
“For two officers who are supposed to be off duty, you sure can find chaos.” Lieutenant Jacobs had stopped at the scene on his way to work. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking at Nick’s battered, steaming truck as it was pulled onto the back of a flatbed. The bullets not only destroyed the windshield, but one had hit the radiator and coolant had spilled everywhere. Even if they hadn’t stopped to check on the bus, they wouldn’t have gotten far. Four other vehicles had been struck or caused to crash by the black car, and there were cops everywhere taking reports. The highway patrol handled school bus crashes, so they were dealing with that, but Jacobs was right—the scene was a picture of chaos.
“Sorry, LT, it just happened,” Carly said. “No one picked up either vehicle?”
“No. It’s morning rush hour. If the drivers of those cars settled down and blended into traffic, they would easily avoid detection. Fox is up—” he pointed to the police helicopter—“and will continue to search, but it looks as though they got clean away. Are you both uninjured?”
“We’re fine,” Nick said, the tone of his voice telling Carly he was just as frustrated as she was.
“Come on, then. I’ll give you a ride to the station. Nick, you can check out a plain car until you get some wheels squared away.” Jake led the way to his squad car. “And by the way, Trouble, that was quite an article in the paper. First time I’ve ever read a Trejo article that sounded like a publicity press release.”
Carly frowned. “I haven’t seen the paper this morning.”
“I’ve got a copy here.” As Jacobs climbed into the driver’s seat, Nick opened the front passenger door for Carly to take shotgun. The paper was on the passenger seat, and she began to read the article while Jacobs started the car.
“Huh,” she huffed, feeling herself blush. The piece was way over the top, and she’d only read the first couple of paragraphs.
The lieutenant chuckled. “You have quite a cheering section there.”
“I don’t know.” Carly skimmed the rest and then handed the paper back to Nick. “I’ll have to have a talk with him.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts. Soon Trejo will be back to cop bashing.”
Carly settled back in the seat and shook her head. That had been Mary Ellen in Trejo’s car, and she’d eluded capture again. She heard several hopeful sightings over the air, but as everything wound down, the girl was still missing.
At the station, the topic of interest was the 998. Since it had happened so close to shift change, Carly and Nick were greeted by the graveyard units who’d responded as they were coming in at end of watch. They all filed their reports in the same room, and as everyone sat, a comfortable camaraderie pervaded the room until Sergeant Nelson stuck his head in.
“CHP officially called off the chase for the Town Car. It’s in the wind,” he said.
Carly cocked her head. “Thanks for the update.”
The sergeant left, and Carly turned back to the banter going on around her. The one positive of this whole frustrating day was that while she watched Nick, she saw the old Nick—the optimist, the man she fell in love with and married. She prayed he’d stay this way just as hard as she prayed they’d find Mary Ellen soon.
• • •
Not long after the sergeant left, there was a knock at the door. Carly looked up to see a welcome face in the doorway.
“Hey, Joe!”
He said hello, and all the other officers in the room piped up to greet him. When everyone was finished, he gave Carly a hug and then leaned against the desk where she sat.
“It’s great to see you,” she said. “What brings you down here?”
“I was listening to my scanner and heard some of what happened this morning. I was hoping you’d fill me in on the details.”
“Of course—I was going to call you. Better to tell you in person.” She started from the early-morning phone call and told him about the fire.
“Oh, I missed that part. I must have gotten out of bed after the fire. I couldn’t figure out what you and Nick were doing there. Now it makes sense.”
As she finished the narrative, he frowned. “I never thought I’d say this, but I feel sorry for the girl. Christy and I were talking, and . . . well, A.J. is fine—he didn’t lose any weight, no diaper rash. We missed him, and we were terrified with him gone.” He paused and swallowed. “We would have preferred that we hadn’t lost him for a minute, but we’re thankful he’s home, healthy and happy.”
“I’d never condone what she did, but I think there’s more going on than we know. And while Mary Ellen needs to be apprehended, she doesn’t deserve a death threat from Sperry.”
“I agree, and I want to help. Let’s go over her juvenile file again, this time with a fine-tooth comb. I know you have already, but I want to get to know this girl, maybe find a way to help her.”
Carly looked over at Nick, who’d been listening. He nodded. “Can’t hurt. I’ve got to deal with my truck and the insurance company. Not sure how they’ll handle the fact that I was in pursuit. I’ll meet with you two upstairs later.”
Carly stood. “Okay. Come on, Joe. Let’s visit homicide and go through the hard-copy file. It’s easier to see everything that way.”
Together they headed for the elevator.
32
CARLY AWOKE WITH A START, heart beating madly. She’d heard something. Rolling over onto her back, frowning into the darkness, she listened and waited while her heart rate slowed to normal. Had she heard something, or was it just a bad dream? She’d taken Maddie over to Nick’s house earlier. Since she didn’t have a roommate, she’d felt it would be best for the dog to stay where there was a dog door. So there was no four-legged alarm system to confirm whether there had been a noise.
Thump, thump, scrape.
There it was again. Someone was in her apartment. Fully awake now, Carly sat up and swung her legs from under the covers and out of bed, wincing as she bumped her knee against the corner of the nightstand. Ignoring the soreness from the car chase, she grabbed her off-duty weapon from the stand and went to the door, then placed her ear to the wall and listened.
When she heard nothing else, she wondered if she’d just imagined the noise or if it was her upstairs neighbor moving around. The clock said 4:30 a.m. She had been sound asleep for about five hours. And before that, she’d had more than a couple of full days.
Scrape, scrape.
Briefly she wondered if Mary Ellen was out there, ready to turn herself in. Carly and Joe hadn’t come any closer to finding her, but they had lear
ned a lot about her. She’d lived in a group home for a time and then started shuffling through the foster care system. At one foster home, she helped take care of several infants who were placed temporarily in the home for various reasons. That helped explain why she was so good with A.J. In her last foster home, she’d complained to a social worker about a male foster child in the home harassing her and had been waiting to be placed elsewhere. Joe guessed she got tired of waiting and ran away.
Frying pan into the fire, Carly thought, and now the girl was on the run in a big way. She had spent time with a burglar who was adept at breaking into houses, and she certainly knew where Carly lived. I still haven’t figured out how she got my address, but it would be too easy to think she’d just walk in and surrender.
Sighing, she knew she’d have to check the apartment or she’d never get back to sleep. She quietly opened her bedroom door and crept into the hallway. Holding the gun at her side, she eased herself toward the living room. She saw a shadow and stopped. Someone was in her apartment, sitting in her recliner. Drawing in a deep breath, she moved closer, and more of the figure became visible in the light that poured through the window from the streetlamp.
Not Mary Ellen—it was Andi.
Carly relaxed, but bewilderment now creased her brow. For the first time she could remember, her normally flashy and well-put-together friend looked disheveled and unkempt. What would she be doing here at this time of morning? After a long moment, Carly cleared her throat.
“Hey, Andi.” Twisting the gun in her hand, she said, “Whew, glad I didn’t have to call 911 to report a dead burglar. Paperwork would tie me up for days.”
Andi looked up at her, and as Carly stepped closer, she saw bloodshot eyes and a face with no makeup. “I still have my key and let myself in,” Andi explained. “Sorry I woke you.”
“I usually work graves, remember? I thrive on no sleep.” She put her gun on the kitchen counter and moved to sit on the coffee table in front of Andrea. “What brings you here now? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, what’s right?” She uttered a foul word. “I’ve made a mess of things.” She leaned forward and put her head in her hands. The despair in her voice broke Carly’s heart.
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