by Wally Duff
“I have an idea.”
“In case something happens, which apartment?” she asked.
“3E,” I said. “And relax. Nothing’s going to happen.”
I said that with more conviction than I felt.
Glad I have my Glock.
71
The yellow crime scene tape that had been positioned across the front door of the apartment building had been removed to allow the residents to enter again. The front door was unlocked, so I walked in like I lived there and went up the thinly carpeted stairs to the third floor. The hallway smelled moldy.
The door to 3E was locked, the entry still blocked by crime scene tape. I put on latex gloves and took out the lock pick gun and torque wrench from my backpack. I did the same thing I’d done at Jamie’s apartment, but this time it took less than fifteen seconds.
I shoved my gear back in my backpack and took out my Glock. I checked the clip, made sure I had a round in the barrel, and then put the gun back into the backpack.
Next, I confronted the crime scene tape. The simplest solution is usually the easiest, so I ripped the tape off, hoping the neighbors would think the apartment manager had decided to show the space to a potential new renter.
I jammed the wad of tape into my backpack and checked both ends of the hall before I opened the door. The unit was as Tony had described it. One chair was still positioned by the window facing the street. I looked out and spotted the place where the doctor’s SUV had been parked.
It was an easy shot.
I turned around. The bathroom was my target. I’d used a swabbing technique weeks before, when I found DNA from one of the “industrial spies” on the edge of a sink. Once I was in the bathroom, I checked the edges of the sink.
Yes!
I saw something glistening on the porcelain. Pulling a few pieces of toilet paper off the roll, I swabbed the area and put the paper into a baggy, one of the staples of my mommy backpack. I swabbed the toilet too.
Standing up, I put the baggy back into the side pocket of my backpack.
My cell phone rang. “She’s... She’s... Here!” Cas screamed. “Tina, she’s coming into the building! Run!”
72
A car alarm went off outside the building. There was a rapid clump of footsteps on the stairs coming up from the first floor. Adrenaline surged through my system.
The window!
I ran to the window the sniper had used when he shot the doctor. I opened it. It was a three-story drop to the street and no fire escape.
The car alarm continued to blast away. The footsteps moved to the second floor landing.
My Glock!
I hadn’t planned for this confrontation, but so be it. I took a deep breath to center myself. The footsteps grew louder.
I crouched behind the stuffed chair for the minimal cover it would afford me. Reaching into my backpack for the Glock, all I could feel was a tangled mass of crime scene tape.
I tried to yank out the twisted blob of tape with both hands, but my hands began to sweat, and the latex gloves got squishy and loose. The more I struggled, the harder it was to grip anything.
This can’t be happening!
The footsteps stopped in front of the apartment door just as I felt the handle of the Glock. I ripped off the latex gloves and pulled the gun free from the backpack.
The doorknob turned. The Glock was in my hand.
The door lock clicked open. I had one bullet in the chamber. I was ready.
The door flew open. I assumed a shooter’s stance behind the stuffed chair.
Aim for center mass.
“I have a gun, and I will shoot,” I said.
Cas darted into the room, a can of wasp spray held high in her right hand.
“Where is she?!” she yelled, wildly waving the can around.
She saw my gun pointed at her chest. She backed up, raising her hands. “Tina, don’t shoot! It’s me!”
I lowered the gun and dropped to my knees. I’d almost shot one of the Hamlin Park Irregulars.
73
“What happened?” I asked, as Cas and I walked down the stairs to street level.
My hands were still shaking.
“Just as you walked into the apartment building, I found a place to park,” Cas said. “Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman walk past me. She crossed the street and went toward the apartment building with the green shutters. At first, I assumed she lived there, but then I saw her reach into her purse and pull out a gun.”
We stepped outside. I began to lose feeling in my legs and had to hold onto the wall of the building to keep from collapsing. “A gun?”
“Big boxy one, kind of like yours.”
“Probably a Glock.”
“Whatever… I saw her turn to the front door of the apartment building you were in. She did something to the top of the gun before she opened the front door. That’s when I called you and started running across the street toward her.”
The car alarm was still blaring away. Cas took out her car keys and punched the alarm button to shut it off.
“I also did that. I read that a car alarm noise will attract bystanders and might also scare off an intruder. I always keep my car keys on top of my bedside table in case someone breaks into our home. It’s my first line of defense.”
“I think you do pretty well with that wasp spray and your Taser.”
“Thank you, but you can’t have too much help in a crisis situation.”
“I think I’ll sit down a minute here,” I said.
I slid to the sidewalk, picturing the woman chambering a round so she could shoot me.
Cas took a water bottle out of her purse and handed it to me. I tried to drink some, but my stomach was a little queasy, and I couldn’t do it. She took the bottle out of my trembling hands and poured some water on the back of my neck and then held the bottle to my forehead as everything went black.
74
It took a couple of minutes before my vision cleared and the ringing in my ears subsided.
“I can’t believe I did that,” I said.
“A vaso-vagal response from being scared,” Cas said.
“The thought of getting shot does that to me.” I waved my hand for her to continue with her story. “Then what happened?”
“The woman must have heard me coming up behind her, or maybe it was the sound of the car alarm. Whatever it was, she saw me and ran into the building. I took out my can of wasp spray and Taser and followed her in the front door. She was gone. I assumed she was in the apartment trying to shoot you.”
“Instead, I almost shot you. Did you consider calling 911?”
A glazed look appeared in her eyes. “It was all happening so fast, I guess I didn’t think about it. Stupid me. I just reacted. Sorry.”
“The cops probably wouldn’t have gotten here in time anyway, but it would have been nice to have them as a backup.”
“But you had a gun.”
“There is that.”
“We need better planning next time.”
I held up my hand. “If Carter finds out what just happened, he’ll kill me, even if the shooter doesn’t.” I took in a deep breath. “This is way too risky.”
“But we almost had her.”
“Or she almost had me. All we proved so far is that we’re not superheroes.” I stood up and brushed the street dirt off the seat of my shorts. “What did she look like?”
“Short, slender, medium-length brown hair. Gray warm-up with long sleeves. Large brown purse. Big sunglasses.”
My legs felt weak again. “Not a blond?”
“No, I’m positive this woman had dark brown hair with a flip curl.”
My stomach began to churn. “The other woman I saw was a blond. I guess this means the bomber has at least two helpers.”
As I walked out to my van, I called Tony. “I have some new DNA samples from the shooter’s apartment.”
The line was silent.
“Tony?”
His voice was hard. “
How did you get them?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“If you contaminated a crime scene, we won’t be able to use any of it as evidence.”
I pictured the crime scene tape I’d ripped down and stashed in my purse. “All I need it for is further proof the bomber is my guy from Arlington.”
“Don’t do this again.”
“I won’t. Will you pick it up, or do you want me to drop it off at your mother’s house?”
I thought I heard him grinding his teeth. “I’ll be at your joint in an hour. Do not go to her house.”
I knew this was the way to save me a trip to deliver the samples to him.
“There was an unaccounted blood spatter in the hallway in Arlington. The FBI agents on the scene assume it came from the bomber. Have their lab compare that DNA to these swabs.”
“At least it’s not freaking C4.”
“Gosh, I hadn’t considered that. Better have them check for that too.”
He groaned and disconnected.
75
Linda was discharged from the hospital Wednesday morning. She didn’t admit it, but I suspected she left before she was supposed to.
But that’s our girl. She pretty much does what she wants to. God bless her husband, Howard, for putting up with that. On the other hand, she controls the purse strings, so he knows his place in their batting lineup.
And having a full-time nanny helps.
David joined me two miles into my morning run.
“You won’t believe what happened yesterday,” I said, when he came up beside me.
“I already know,” David said.
I stopped and faced him. “Know what?”
He stopped too. “A dark-haired lady tried to shoot you.”
“Did you talk to Cas?”
“No, I was there.”
“No way. I didn’t see you.”
“You didn’t see me for the same reason you didn’t see the woman following you. She used a GPS tracker she’d stuck to your van.”
My stomach dropped to my toes. “How did you find that out?”
“It’s been bothering me that the bomber might be following any of us. He would have to have a lot of people helping him to do that. Unless he had tracking devices on all of our cars or pinged our cell phones.”
“He can do that?”
“Anyone can. That’s how I knew where you were, but unless he has your cell phone numbers, he has to use tracking devices.”
“Just like I did on the ‘industrial spy’ story.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know about the cell phone technique, but I had access to tracking devices so I used them. Looks like he did too.”
“You’re right. I went over my car and found one under the back fender. Yesterday, I came by and checked your van. You have one too. So do the rest of the girls.”
“This guy is worse than the FBI. Tell me the rest of it.”
“When you drove off yesterday, I pinged your cell phone and followed you from a safe distance.”
“And you saw the woman.”
He nodded. “She drove three cars in front of me. You were already out of your car by the time we arrived. She parked two blocks away and walked to the apartment building. I found a spot to park close to her.”
“And you followed.”
“Not exactly. I used binoculars to watch her. I saw her pull out a gun and enter the apartment building. Before I could react, I saw Cas take out her equipment and follow the woman into the building. I also saw and then heard Cas set off her car alarm.”
“That was really smart, but she should have called 911. You should have too.”
“I started to, but I saw the woman run out of the back of the building before I could. I had to hurry up and finish what I was doing.”
“Doing?”
“I stood next to the car she drove and put a tracking device on it. It’s old fashioned, but I didn’t have access to her cell phone number. I escaped before she saw me.”
“That’s brilliant.”
“We still have to catch them.”
“We sure do. Where did she go?”
“Follow me.”
We ran down Belmont and then went right on Paulina and stopped about twenty feet from the corner. Our home was on the other end of the block.
I stared at him and shrugged.
“Don’t be too obvious, but they’re right here,” he said.
“Right here, where?”
“In this apartment building.”
I almost threw up.
The bomber lives across the alley directly behind our house.
76
I clenched my hands into fists. “If it wasn’t the middle of the morning, I would go in there right now and finish this, especially after what happened yesterday.”
“I can understand why you’re angry, but they’re probably not here,” David said.
“And how would you know this?”
“Before I started my run this morning, I checked their GPS and the car wasn’t here.”
“Do you think they found your tracking device?”
“No, I think they switched cars.”
I glanced up at the four-story apartment building. “If we’re going to discuss this, we might want to find a safer location to stand than right here.”
We walked toward our house. I counted the steps from the front door of the apartment building to our front gate.
The bad guys are thirty-three yards from our home.
“When I hid the GPS device, I took down the license plate number too,” he said. “I checked it on my computer. It’s a rental car.”
“You think they’re changing rental cars at regular intervals.”
“I do, and that takes deep financial resources. They must have a lot of money at their disposal.”
I did a hamstring stretch. “I’m not sure what we should do next.”
“The police won’t act until we have some proof.”
“You sound like Linda, but you’re right. We need to convince Tony that the bomber is in there,” I nodded toward the apartment building, “and then set a trap to catch him.”
“You have to break in and get the evidence we need.”
“No way, David. It’s too risky.”
“It’s the only way you’re going to catch the man who tried to kill you,” he stared at me, “and then finish writing your story.”
77
Wednesday afternoon, I pushed Kerry in her stroller to Whole Foods. I had my shopping list for the meal Carter was going to prepare for dinner. He wanted to do a frisée salad with pears, goat cheese, and salted pecans, followed by Italian braised spareribs with rigatoni.
I didn’t want the Irregulars to have to leave their families for a simple trip to the store, so I hadn’t called any of them to follow me. And I was reasonably certain the bomber, or one of his helpers, wouldn’t attack Kerry and me when lots of people were around us out in the open. He hadn’t done it in the past, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t do it now.
But I did touch the outline of the Glock in my backpack for reassurance that I could defend myself if the bomber, or one of his helpers, showed up.
After purchasing the ingredients I needed for dinner, I wandered down to Dinkel’s. Esther Guadeloupe Escobar, one of the managers, stood behind the glass display counter. She’s from Costa Rica, short, and always happy, but who wouldn’t be, working in an establishment like this? But she enjoys her job a little too much, resulting in her weight being way past two hundred pounds, which isn’t healthy, especially since she’s so short she can barely see over the top of the pastry cases.
“Do you have any pies, Esther?” I asked. “I need dessert for tonight.”
The pies would be my only contribution to the meal.
“Sure do,” she said, in heavily accented English. “Apple and cherry.”
“I’ll take one of each. Do you mind if I use the back door? I need to run an errand.”
; “Sure, no problem. You know where it is.”