They climbed into the black SUV with the FBI sticker. Anya checked her sidearm one more time, confirming that it was fully loaded and ready to go. Chudick glanced at her.
“My intention is to just serve the warrant, but if he resists, I won’t mind if you’re the one to help pin him down.”
It was tacit permission to work out some anger, but this wasn’t her first rodeo. “No – I’m not going to do anything that will jeopardize having this arrest stick.”
Carter nodded approvingly but said nothing.
They drove to Jefferson Street. Harper’s mother lived in a run-down ranch bungalow in the middle of a run-down street, just one of many gray buildings. The FBI cars, lights flashing, pulled up in front of the house, and the agents poured out.
Anya and Carter followed Chudick up the steps while the rest of the team fanned out to surround the house. Chudick knocked. “FBI!” she shouted. “Open up!”
They could hear voices inside, two men stridently panicking. The voices were followed by shuffling.
“FBI!”
The door opened a crack, and an old woman peered out around the chain. “What do you want?”
Chudick presented the warrant. “We’re here for Reginald Harper.”
The woman slammed the door shut, and a shout went up from the back yard. “Freeze!”
Anya sprinted for the back of the house with her sidearm in her hand, Carter right behind her. Chudick followed. Reginald Harper was halfway out of the back door, his face contorted with rage. He had a pistol in his hand.
One of the FBI agents had his own gun trained on the suspect. “Drop it!”
Harper’s response was to point his pistol and fire. The FBI agent dropped, screaming, his knee obliterated.
Anya fired.
Reginald fell backward, propelled back into the house by the force of the slug that had slammed into his chest. As soon as he was down, the FBI agents swarmed him, kicking his gun aside.
Chudick went to the fallen suspect and announced what everyone knew. “He’s dead.”
Anya put her weapon back into its holster. She expected to feel jubilant, but instead all she felt was numb. Carter walked to her side.
“Good shot,” he said. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
Epilogue
Because she had killed a civilian, Anya was suspended for the duration of an internal affairs investigation. Captain Flanders had told her not to worry, that she would be cleared of any wrongdoing, and that it was just a formality. She couldn’t bring herself to care.
Three days after the shooting, an unexpected knock on the door roused her out of her silent TV watching. She looked through the peephole and was pleasantly surprised to see Carter Soldano standing there.
She opened the door. “Hi,” she greeted.
“Hi,” he responded, his tone warm. He was holding something behind his back. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.”
She stepped aside and let him through. He brushed against her again, as he’d done on his first visit to her apartment, but this time she allowed herself to enjoy the scent of his aftershave. She closed the door.
“To what do I owe the honor?”
He smiled. “Today is my last day in the city. I’m going back to Farmington.”
Her heart sank. “Oh.”
“No, that’s a good thing. Honestly.”
“If you say so. I thought we worked well together.”
He shrugged. “We did, but I’d like to do more with you than work.”
She sat on the couch. He was still holding his hands behind his back. “What have you got?”
Carter pulled out a brown paper bag emblazoned with the name of a comic book store in Chicago. She’d been there once before and had been amazed by the rarity of some of their stock.
“Remember when I said I was going to give you something? Well, here it is.”
He held the bag out to her, and she took it. Inside was a comic sleeve, reinforced by an acid-free board. The comic inside took her breath away.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He grinned. “Sensation Comics #1, the first appearance of Wonder Woman.”
She could hardly believe her eyes. “Oh my God, Carter!”
“All yours.”
“No way.”
“Way.”
She shook her head. “I can’t… this is… this is worth thousands.”
“I know.”
He sat beside her on the couch.
“I can’t accept this.”
“Of course you can.”
“But…”
He kissed her. She did not object.
“It comes with strings,” he told her.
“What strings?”
“You have to have dinner with me tonight.”
She put the comic on the coffee table, careful to lay it perfectly flat. He was watching her with that perfect smile.
She turned to him and put her arms around him.
“You’ve got a deal.”
*****
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amelia Wilson has dedicated her life to writing. She is a firm believer in the power of love to conquer all, and her works reflect this belief. Her paranormal romances are known for their love stories, action and suspense. She creates immersive worlds that are rich in detail and full of emotion.
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To Catch a Killer Page 4