his hand made a noise, and Brian pressed it to his ear. Voice mail. Shit .
“It’s Beckman. I’m at the movie theater south of campus. This guy’s armed, and I need immediate backup.”
A clatter of footsteps, a grunt. He was running away.
Brian shoved the phone into his pocket and crouched low as he rounded the Dumpster. He scanned the area. No one. With his back to the wall, gun up, he hustled to the corner of the building and peered around.
Parking lot. Fuck . Hundreds and hundreds of cars and innocent people flowing between them. Brian ran for the lot, mind racing with a long list of bad outcomes to this. Volansky was going to grab a car, that was certain. Would he just take it, or would he put a bullet in someone when he did? Brian took the phone out again and dialed 911, then barked directions at the operator while sprinting for the sea of cars. He reached the first row and dropped to his knees so he could peer under the vehicles. No one hiding or duck-walking around that he could see.
A distant scream, shrill and terrified.
Brian jumped to his feet, searching for the source.
Another scream. He took off toward the commotion. He ran for all he was worth, heart thundering. Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot .
Across the lot, a red hatchback rocketed backward out of a space. He heard the squeal of brakes and then the growl of the engine as the car sped away.
CHAPTER 5
Maddie knelt on the sidewalk beside the shoe print. She took a deep breath, held it, then let it out partially and snapped the picture.
Blurry again.
Her hands were shaking all over the place, and she desperately wished for her tripod. She glanced around for something to use as a substitute and spotted the police cruiser zooming toward her. It came to a screeching stop nearby, and Brian jumped out of the passenger side.
“I told you to stay in the car.”
Relief washed over her at the sight of him. But she didn’t respond, because she didn’t want him to see how rattled she was. She put her knee up and rested the camera on it, with the lens angled slightly down.
“Maddie?”
“I need to get a few photos.”
“We’ve got techs for that.”
Click .
She checked the screen. At last, a decent shot. She pocketed her metal scale and stood up to look at him.In the street light, she saw that his face was slick with sweat, but he wasn’t even breathing heavily, and here she was shaking so badly she could hardly hold a camera. He’d called her after the carjacking, but the few minutes between hearing those distant gunshots and getting that phone call had been terrifying as she envisioned Special Agent Brian Beckman bleeding out on some street corner.
She looped the strap around her neck. “I needed to document fleeting evidence. Stuff that fades or blows away—strands of hair, dust . . .” She nodded at the sidewalk in front of her. “Wet shoe prints on concrete.”
Brian’s phone buzzed, and Maddie pulled it from the pocket of the borrowed jacket. She handed it to him and strode back to the SUV, where she could busy herself with more photos of the running board.
Someone had shot at him just minutes ago, and he looked completely unfazed. His voice sounded perfectly normal as he stood behind her, talking on his phone. Any doubt that he’d once been in the military was erased.
Maddie crouched beside the black Explorer and clicked a few more pictures of the blood smear on the running board. These particular shots could wait for the FBI crime-scene techs, but extra pictures wouldn’t hurt. She studied the blood, knowing it could very well belong to Jolene Murphy. This might have been the primary vehicle used in her abduction. It made sense. The Explorer had tinted windows, unlike the sedan.
The SUV shifted as the police officer ducked inside and reached for the keys.
“Hey!” Maddie shot to her feet. “Hands off. This is a crime scene.”
He frowned. “Who are you?”
Who the hell are you ? she wanted to
“It’s Beckman. I’m at the movie theater south of campus. This guy’s armed, and I need immediate backup.”
A clatter of footsteps, a grunt. He was running away.
Brian shoved the phone into his pocket and crouched low as he rounded the Dumpster. He scanned the area. No one. With his back to the wall, gun up, he hustled to the corner of the building and peered around.
Parking lot. Fuck . Hundreds and hundreds of cars and innocent people flowing between them. Brian ran for the lot, mind racing with a long list of bad outcomes to this. Volansky was going to grab a car, that was certain. Would he just take it, or would he put a bullet in someone when he did? Brian took the phone out again and dialed 911, then barked directions at the operator while sprinting for the sea of cars. He reached the first row and dropped to his knees so he could peer under the vehicles. No one hiding or duck-walking around that he could see.
A distant scream, shrill and terrified.
Brian jumped to his feet, searching for the source.
Another scream. He took off toward the commotion. He ran for all he was worth, heart thundering. Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot .
Across the lot, a red hatchback rocketed backward out of a space. He heard the squeal of brakes and then the growl of the engine as the car sped away.
CHAPTER 5
Maddie knelt on the sidewalk beside the shoe print. She took a deep breath, held it, then let it out partially and snapped the picture.
Blurry again.
Her hands were shaking all over the place, and she desperately wished for her tripod. She glanced around for something to use as a substitute and spotted the police cruiser zooming toward her. It came to a screeching stop nearby, and Brian jumped out of the passenger side.
“I told you to stay in the car.”
Relief washed over her at the sight of him. But she didn’t respond, because she didn’t want him to see how rattled she was. She put her knee up and rested the camera on it, with the lens angled slightly down.
“Maddie?”
“I need to get a few photos.”
“We’ve got techs for that.”
Click .
She checked the screen. At last, a decent shot. She pocketed her metal scale and stood up to look at him.In the street light, she saw that his face was slick with sweat, but he wasn’t even breathing heavily, and here she was shaking so badly she could hardly hold a camera. He’d called her after the carjacking, but the few minutes between hearing those distant gunshots and getting that phone call had been terrifying as she envisioned Special Agent Brian Beckman bleeding out on some street corner.
She looped the strap around her neck. “I needed to document fleeting evidence. Stuff that fades or blows away—strands of hair, dust . . .” She nodded at the sidewalk in front of her. “Wet shoe prints on concrete.”
Brian’s phone buzzed, and Maddie pulled it from the pocket of the borrowed jacket. She handed it to him and strode back to the SUV, where she could busy herself with more photos of the running board.
Someone had shot at him just minutes ago, and he looked completely unfazed. His voice sounded perfectly normal as he stood behind her, talking on his phone. Any doubt that he’d once been in the military was erased.
Maddie crouched beside the black Explorer and clicked a few more pictures of the blood smear on the running board. These particular shots could wait for the FBI crime-scene techs, but extra pictures wouldn’t hurt. She studied the blood, knowing it could very well belong to Jolene Murphy. This might have been the primary vehicle used in her abduction. It made sense. The Explorer had tinted windows, unlike the sedan.
The SUV shifted as the police officer ducked inside and reached for the keys.
“Hey!” Maddie shot to her feet. “Hands off. This is a crime scene.”
He frowned. “Who are you?”
Who the hell are you ? she wanted to
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