Smoke Screen (The Darcy Lynch Series Book 2)

by Elin Barnes

  As he did, Darcy locked eyes with his partner. They were framed with crow’s-feet, and they were smiling. Maybe we’ve turned a corner, Darcy thought.

  “He’s moving,” Darcy said when he sat in the car and checked his phone again.

  “Where to?”

  “I don’t know yet. He’s heading south. Keep going down The Alameda. We may run into him.”

  “But I don’t want to stop him. Better we see where’s he’s going first.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  Darcy continued to update Sorensen with Bishop’s position. At least he was hoping it was Bishop and not somebody else using his phone.

  “Turn right on First. He’s still going south.”

  First Street became Monterey Highway, and they continued on. As Bishop turned, Darcy updated Sorensen.

  “Where the hell’s he going?”

  “No idea, but he’s slowing down.” A second later he added, “He took a right on Cedar Road.”

  “Oh shit, he’s going to the park.”

  Sorensen accelerated.

  “You think we’ll lose him there?”

  “No, the Dot Tracker app should be okay even with the trees, but Bishop may spot us.”

  Sorensen passed a couple cars on the right.

  “The park has been closed a few months for renovations or something.”

  As Sorensen had predicted, Darcy watched Bishop’s green flashing dot take a left into the parking lot at Honey Park and then stop for less than a minute. The Jeep followed him there but didn’t enter the lot until the dot started moving again. The detectives left the car behind. Darcy put on his vest and brushed his hand over his extra magazines just to check they were still there.

  When they entered the park, they noticed the gate was open, but there was no one in sight. They passed the swings on their left and continued walking north toward the puppet theater. The dot stopped, and they did too for a second, then began to search for a visual of Bishop through the trees.

  “Let’s make sure it’s him first,” Sorensen said, grabbing Darcy by the arm, making him slow down.

  “But if it’s not him, then it won’t matter,” Darcy said, wanting to push on.

  The dot remained stationary. They walked by another building, passed some trees and spotted Bishop standing by a dry fountain.

  Darcy watched Bishop pace. His hands were in his pockets. He didn’t seem to be hiding anything bulky, but his gaze was strained, as if he was trying to see something and the trees weren’t letting him.

  “He’s here to meet somebody. I’m going to check around,” Darcy said. “You got this?”

  Sorensen waved him off and accelerated toward Bishop.

  Darcy took a right and headed to a run-down building. He looked over his shoulder and saw Bishop react when Sorensen reached him. That’s when the dot appeared on Bishop’s chest. It was red, small, and very bright.

  Time seemed to slow down. Darcy’s call to take cover was buried by a shot. Sorensen’s body fell on top of the target beside the fountain.

  “Are you hit?” Darcy yelled, making a 180 and running back toward his partner.

  Silence. Sorensen wasn’t moving, and Darcy couldn’t see Bishop underneath his partner’s mass.

  Chapter 98

  “Are you hurt?” Darcy shouted again as three shots shattered the fountain, spraying cement shrapnel several feet away. Before he reached them, Sorensen rolled onto his side and dragged Bishop behind the base for cover. Another two shots hit the structure, blowing off the side where Sorensen had just been.

  “You okay?” Darcy asked, taking cover behind a tree.

  “Yes, yes,” Sorensen said under his breath, but loud enough for Darcy to hear.

  “I’m going after him.”

  Darcy started running toward where the shots had come from. The only sounds he could hear were his shoes hitting the ground and his heart pounding. The path ended, and he slowed down through the trees. There were no more shots. He now heard nothing but a few birds and the distant sound of traffic growing closer. Finally, he reached the end of the park and faced a long parking lot with only two cars in it.

  It was much larger than the one they’d parked at, and as he walked, he felt completely exposed. He scanned the empty place and pulled his Glock to his chest as he closed in on the first car. It was an old Datsun, rusty and overflowing with dirty clothes and garbage. He looked over the hood and then ran to the other car, finding it also empty.

  After Darcy cleared the parking lot, he walked back to the fountain and found Sorensen and Bishop gone. He saw them a few yards ahead, heading toward where they had parked. Sorensen was dragging Bishop by the arm.

  “Holy shit, I’m amazed how hard the bullet hits you, even with the vest,” Sorensen said as soon as Darcy caught up with them.

  When they reached the car, Sorensen shoved Bishop into the backseat. Darcy rode next to him to the station and called the captain with the update.

  “Put him in Room 4. I want all of us to watch,” Virago told Sorensen as soon as they walked into the bullpen.

  Even though her face was stern, the right side of her mouth was tilted slightly upwards.

  Darcy was starting to recognize her unintentional cues. She was probably relieved that they’d been able to contain the situation without additional casualties.

  The two of them watched Sorensen place a can of Red Bull on the table close to where he was sitting. Bishop looked at it with indifference but didn’t say anything.

  “You want something to drink?” Sorensen asked.

  Silence.

  “Listen, dude, I just saved your life.”

  Bishop’s lips puckered.

  “I got the frigging hole in the vest to prove it.”

  “You guys probably staged it,” Bishop finally said.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Why would we do that?”

  Bishop didn’t answer.

  “Okay. Play it that way. But Mitchell, the guy you’re protecting, just tried to kill you. Whether you want to believe it or not, you’re screwed. You’re going to jail, and if this guy really wants you dead, there’s no easier place to get that done than there.”

  “Why would he want me dead? Uh? He saved my life. There’s no way he would shoot at me.”

  “So who then? One of the other guys?” Bishop looked at Sorensen, challenging him. “I’m fairly certain it wasn’t . . . since they’re all dead.”

  For the first time since the shooting, Bishop showed surprise. Sorensen realized he finally had an in.

  “Ah, you didn’t know, did you?”

  The Marine looked away. He tucked his smaller foot behind the other one and crossed his arms.

  “Samuel Barr was killed after he ran over a woman right outside our station. Curtis Gutierrez was killed after he assassinated Carlos de la Rosa. Alex MacAlister was killed by a shot in the head and burned in his uncle’s warehouse this morning. So it’s only you and Mitchell left.”

  Before Bishop could protest, Sorensen continued: “It’s either you trying to clean up this mess, or it’s Mitchell.” He let the statement settle for a few seconds. “You tell me.”

  Sorensen got up and left the room. He came back a minute later with a cup of coffee. He set it by Bishop, sat back down and crossed his arms over his ample stomach.

  “You have to be lying,” Bishop said. There was no conviction in his voice anymore. He watched the steam rising from the black liquid.

  Sorensen left again. Darcy met him right outside with the case files for each suspect. Sorensen walked back in and closed the door behind him. He placed the folders on the table and squared each corner, forming a neat stack. He opened the first one and pulled out a close-up shot of a burnt head with a very visible exit wound in the forehead.

  Bishop pushed the coffee mug away but glanced at the photo. Sorensen pulled a print from each file and placed them on the table so that they faced Bishop.

  The Marine rubbed the bridge of his nose an
d then this eyes. He finally took a very long sigh and, leaning against the chair, said, “What do you want?”

  “We want to know where we can find Mitchell.”

  “I don’t know where he is. Try his condo.”

  “He blew up the lobby this morning.”

  Bishop didn’t say anything.

  “Apparently he decided he didn’t like his security guard anymore.”

  There was still a hint of disbelief in Bishop’s face, so Sorensen pulled out a photo of the lobby peppered with Jamal Johnston’s body parts.

  “Bishop, you’re a Marine. I understand your loyalty, but Mitchell is getting rid of everybody who can tie him to Malik and de la Rosa. That means he won’t stop until you are the next picture on this table.”

  Bishop covered his face with his hands and let a long breath out.

  “I don’t know where he is. Really. He talked about going to the beach, somewhere far away, once this job was over.”

  “He hasn’t left the country yet. Do you know if he was going to drive?”

  “Well, obviously that wasn’t the original plan,” he scoffed.

  “What else can you tell me? Does he have a girlfriend? Is he close to anybody?”

  Bishop started wringing his hands.

  “Come on, you got to give me something.”

  “He’s close to his mom.”

  Chapter 99

  Sorensen sprinted out of the room. Darcy and Virago met him outside. They all moved away from the door so Bishop wouldn’t hear them.

  “Go back in there and try to get more,” Virago said to Sorensen.

  He nodded but didn’t move.

  “Lynch, I want you to get whatever you can on the mother so we can arrest her. You better do it in less than thirty seconds. We need to act before Mitchell gets too far.”

  Darcy went to his desk and called Jon. While he typed, he shared all the information with the intern so they could both work different angles at the same time.

  A few moments later Virago poked her head out of the view room. “What do you have?”

  “Nothing. This woman’s clean. There’s a parking ticket, but she actually paid it.”

  “Then make something up. We don’t have time.”

  Darcy looked up at her. The phone was still on speaker with Jon.

  “What do you mean, ‘Make something up’?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like. Call your reporter buddies and tell them you are about to arrest the mother of our number-one suspect in the Los Altos homicide for aiding and abetting a dangerous criminal and now fugitive.”

  Darcy felt his jaw actually drop.

  Virago must have seen it, because she said, “You can close your mouth, Detective. I want this done now. Get to it.”

  Darcy hung up the phone with Jon and dialed Janet Hagen, his contact at Channel 6. He whispered the news story as if it were a secret and confirmed that the newscaster would be at Mitchell’s mom’s house in twenty minutes.

  “We got fifteen to get there,” he yelled at Virago as soon as he was off the phone.

  “You head out there. Sorensen and I will stay here. There will be ten cars, full spinners and sirens, as soon as you give them the go.”

  Darcy nodded.

  “And Detective,” she said, grabbing his attention again before he left the bullpen. “I don’t want a single shot fired.”

  “You got it.”

  Before he got to the elevator, he realized he still didn’t have a car. Man, this is getting old, he thought, and went back to get Virago’s. She threw him the keys as soon as she saw him coming back.

  While he sped through the streets, Darcy had Jon call the mother to ensure she was home. The house was a modest rambler in East San Jose, with a chain-link fence, a tall dead tree, and a few rosebushes, which stood in the middle of the yard. As soon as he parked, he called the unis. He was still in his car when he heard the first sirens.

  The first patrol car pulled into the street and stopped. An officer got out and ran toward him as backup. Darcy waited. A second later there were about seven police cars rushing in and still a few more arriving. As the unis came, they killed the sirens but left the spinners on. Once the last car arrived, an eerie silence engulfed the entire street.

  Another glance behind him. The first news van had arrived. Now the show could start.

  Chapter 100

  Ethan’s plan to go to a beach after the job was done hadn’t involved getting there by car. He knew it was now the only way to get out of the country. So Ethan drove south. When he was close to Carmel, he heard the news on the radio. He slammed on the brakes harder than he intended, then pulled over on the side of the road.

  He activated his phone and swiped the screen until he found the news app. The blond newscaster appeared. Ethan fumbled with the phone and almost dropped it on the floor before he was able to get it on speaker and turn the volume up.

  “. . . as you can see behind me, the police are now arresting Mrs. Dolores Mitchell, on charges of felony murder and aiding and abetting her son to escape. Could Dolores Mitchell be the Ma Barker of the twenty-first century?” The shine in the anchor’s eyes made Ethan’s gut churn.

  “She’s been arrested and will be transported to the Santa Clara Sheriff’s Office for questioning. Mrs. Mitchell is fifty-three years old and suffers from MS . . .”

  Ethan stopped listening. Behind the anchor he could see the deputies surrounding his mother’s house. The door was off the hinges. His mother was being escorted by the fat detective’s partner, Lynch, and an officer.

  He noticed that his left hand was grasping the steering wheel so hard that circulation to the tips of his fingers had stopped. He let go and opened and closed his fist a few times until he felt the blood flow again.

  Still watching, Ethan put the car back in gear and drove until he found an exit. He took it and stopped at the first gas station he found, parked but didn’t get out. He was still watching the blond woman behind the big microphone with the Channel 6 News logo talk about his mother. The camera finally left the anchor and followed a car disappearing down the street, with his mother inside.

  “This is bullshit!” he shouted inside the car at no one in particular.

  He threw the phone onto the passenger seat and put the car in gear. He got back on Highway 101—but now he was heading north.

  Chapter 101

  Darcy followed the patrol car, but he was only half paying attention. He kept looking at his phone. He knew it would ring. He was just hoping it would be sooner rather than later. After about fifteen minutes, he entered the station’s garage and caught up with the officer processing Mrs. Mitchell.

  Darcy removed the cuffs, then escorted her into one of the nicer interview rooms. They hadn’t exchanged a word since he arrested her.

  “Can I get some water please?” the woman asked once she took a seat. She was shaking like a leaf.

  Darcy nodded, but before he could leave to get it, the door opened and Virago walked in with a pitcher.

  “Hello, Mrs. Mitchell,” she said, setting a paper cup near the woman. “I’m Captain Virago.”

  She poured some water and nodded for Darcy to leave.

  As he walked toward the door, he checked his phone. Still nothing. He met Sorensen outside, and they both walked into the observation room.

  “Do you think it’s going to work?” Sorensen asked.

  “I really hope so. Have you been checking your phone? He may call you.”

  “Yep, nothing here. Maybe he calls the station. Who knows?”

  As if on cue, Darcy’s phone rang. The number was blocked. He nodded to the technician to start the trace. “Detective Lynch,” he answered, and put it on speaker. He glanced at the door to check if it was closed. It was.

  “You think you’re very smart,” Mitchell said.

  “Not as much as you are, apparently,” Darcy said.

  “You know you have nothing on my mother.”

  “You need to turn yourself in, or
your mother’s going to prison for a long time.”

  “You have nothing on her. Charges won’t stick.”

  “We can be very resourceful when needed.” Darcy looked at Sorensen, who shrugged his shoulders as if saying, It might work.

  Silence.

  “Turn yourself in,” Darcy said. “We have Bishop and Higgins. When we find you, it’ll be much worse for you.”

  Mitchell scoffed. Darcy watched Sorensen wipe the sweat off his forehead, then dry his hand on his pants.

  “I have the pro from the party—do you care at all about her?” Mitchell asked.

  “Is she dead?” Darcy asked, and looked at Sorensen. The seconds of silence felt like minutes. He suspected Mitchell was probably sweating as much as his partner was.

  “Let my mother go, and I will tell you where she is.”

  “Is she still alive?”

  “Maybe. I will call you in exactly one hour. I want my Mom happily home by then. If she is, I’ll tell you where you can find the hooker.”

  “You know that won’t work. I can only let your mother go after you’ve turned yourself in.”

  The laugh at the other end of the line was loud and almost sounded genuine. There was something sinister about it.

  “Detective, you care a whole lot more about the hooker than I care about my mother.”

  Chapter 102

  “Can you buy more time?” Virago asked as soon as Darcy told her what had happened.

  “I don’t have a way to reach him,” Darcy said.

  She rubbed her eyes and paced the length of the room. Darcy wondered how she managed to not run into anything while she did that.

  “Anything from the trace?” she asked.

  Darcy shook his head.

  “Do we really think Aislin’s still alive?” Sorensen asked.

  “It’s the only body that hasn’t turned up yet.”

  Darcy looked at the case boards on the other side of the bullpen. He suddenly thought of something, and walked out of the room. He reached his desk and rummaged through the case files until he found the one he wanted. Grabbed it and walked back to Virago’s office. They both waited until he spoke.