Read Online Web of Justice by Rayven T. Hill - Free Book Online

he wished he’d brought the Firebird.
    He took out his cell phone and dialed Hank. A direct call to the detective would be faster than going through 9-1-1 and waiting for dispatch to get the message.
    “Detective Hank Corning.”
    “Hank, it’s Jake. I’m following Izzy Wilde. He’s driving a beat-up Honda, but I might lose him. Ontario plates 719 SDX. It’s ten or so years old. Navy blue. He just left his brother’s apartment building, heading south.”
    “Hold on.”
    Jake put his cell on speaker and propped it up against the dashboard as the Honda made a right turn a block ahead of him. Jake slowed for a jaywalker, then hit the gas and pulled a right turn. He peered through the windshield and slapped the steering wheel. Wilde was gone. Jake continued on, checking both directions at the next intersection, but the Honda was nowhere to be seen.
    He drove another block, took a left, and glanced around.
    Hank came back on the phone. “Dispatch has sent all available units to the area and issued a BOLO for the vehicle.”
    “I don’t see him anywhere,” Jake said. “But he can’t be far away.”
    “Stay on the phone.”
    Jake peered in all directions, hoping to see the elusive vehicle. At the next street, he took a wide left and there it was, stopped halfway onto the curb, the driver door hanging open. Jake ground to a stop beside it, grabbed his phone, and jumped from the Escort.
    Izzy Wilde was tearing across the front lawn of the adjacent house. He scrambled over a high wooden fence and disappeared from view.
    “He’s on foot,” Jake said into the phone, racing across the grass. “He dumped the car.”
    Jake vaulted over the fence as Wilde hit the next street, crossed over and ran to his left, out of view.
    Jake followed, stepped onto the sidewalk, and scanned the area. He squinted at a figure ambling toward him. It wasn’t Wilde.
    The fugitive was gone.
    “I’m on Silverpine,” Jake said into the phone. “I’ve lost him.”
    Dozens of houses lined the street, and Izzy could be hidden from view behind any of them. The suspect seemed to know he was being chased, and he’d be determined to get out of the area as soon as possible.
    “Cruisers will be there shortly,” Hank said.
    Jake sprinted up the street, hoping to see the wanted man, but it was futile. He jogged back to the Escort, gave Hank the location of the abandoned vehicle, and drove around a few minutes longer. Cruisers had now arrived and were patrolling the streets.
    Half an hour later, Jake was convinced the slippery fugitive had eluded capture once again.

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 12
     
     
     
    Tuesday, 8:35 p.m.
     
    LISA KRUNK WAS fuming. She hadn’t been able to get any comment from Detective Corning that morning regarding the murdered woman in the park. She had planned to corner him when he left the scene, but he’d somehow managed to slip away and leave her hanging.
    Though he’d circled the entire area, Don had been unable to get any actual shots of the victim. The real action had taken place behind a group of trees, and she’d had to settle for some almost useless footage of cops milling about behind the taped-off park. And though Don had captured the sheet-covered gurney as it had been taken to the coroner’s van, it would be insufficient to satisfy her multitude of waiting fans.
    A trip to Izzy Wilde’s place of residence had netted her nothing useful. She’d been denied access to the property, and from the road there was little to see, even with Don’s powerful zoom lens.
    As the best reporter in the city, probably in the country, she felt slighted that someone of her stature should be pushed aside. Her unequalled investigative skills had aided the police many times in the past, and though she’d always demanded something in return for her efforts, she’d often been indispensable to their investigations.
    There was no doubt her stories often appeared to cast the police department in a bad light, but surely Hank