Cause to Kill (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1) by Blake Pierce Page B

can also try to track that minivan from Lederman.
    I just need more people, she thought. And not Finley.
    Police sirens blared.
    Cops spun into action.
    “ We got a runner! We got a runner! ”
    Farther off, on another path visible from her position, a black
car, maybe a Mustang, revved up and burned smoke out of the cemetery. Ray was
below shouting orders. Two police officers and a photographer around the body
perked up and started to head toward the action.
    “ No, no ,” Avery called and pointed. “You stay here. Someone
has to guard the body.”
    Finley, she thought. Where is Finley?
    Her walkie-talkie buzzed to life.
    “Hey, Black,” came Finley’s voice, “we got him! I got him!”
    “Where are you?” she demanded.
    “I’m in a Watertown police cruiser with—hey, what’s your name,” he
said to someone. “Shut up, man!” came a different voice. “I’m trying to drive!”
“I don’t know,” Finley added, “some cop. We’re the first ones out. Following a
black Mustang. Heading northwest out of the cemetery. Hop in that pretty white
pony of yours and back us up. We got him!”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
     
    Avery jumped in her car and stuck a siren on the roof. The red light
whirled. Her walkie-talkie, a new model as sleek and small as a cell phone, was
thrown aside. Instead, she turned on the car transreceiver and clicked the
frequency she’d been assigned to Finley.
    The car started. A backup curve and she hit the pedal and peeled
forward out onto Walnut Avenue. The paths in the cemetery were a maze-like
jumble. Through distant trees, she caught the tail end of a police cruiser. She
abandoned the road and jumped onto the grass. Shit, she thought, I’m going to
get into trouble for this. Headstones were avoided. The car turned onto another
paved road and she was behind a pack of police vehicles.
    Avery followed the chase out of the cemetery and onto Mt. Auburn
Street. She narrowly avoided two cars. A crash resounded behind her. The line
of red and blue police lights shifted onto Belmont Street.
    Avery picked up her transreceiver mouthpiece.
    “Finley,” she called, “where are you?”
    “Oh man,” Finley replied, “you guys are way behind. We’re ahead of
everybody. This is great. We’re going to catch this son of a bitch.”
    “ Where are you? ” she demanded.
    “On Belmont, just past Oxford. No wait. He’s turning onto Marlboro
Street.”
    Avery checked her speedometer. Sixty-five…seventy. Belmont went in
two directions. Her side was a one-lane street with enough room to slip by any
slow cars on the right. Thankfully, all the police cruisers had already
diverted traffic. She caught up to the last car.
    “Made a left on Unity Avenue now,” Finley called.
    The line of police turned right on Marlboro and then made a quick
left.
    “We stopped. We stopped,” Finley cried. “I’m out of the car.
Mustang on the lawn of a small brown house, left side. Heading into the house.”
    “ Don’t go into the house!” Avery shouted. “Do you hear me?
Do not go in!”
    The line went silent.
    “ Shit ,” she said aloud.
    All the police cars had converged on a single brown two-story
house with a short lawn and no trees. The Mustang had nearly smashed into the
front staircase. The police cruiser beside it, Avery assumed, had been the one
with Finley inside.
    Avery hopped out and pulled the Glock out from her shoulder strap.
Other officers had their weapons drawn. No one seemed to know what was
happening.
    “Is this our guy?” Henley called out.
    “We don’t know,” another cop answered.
    Yelling came inside.
    Shots were fired.
    “You two!” Henley roared to his men. “Go around back. Make sure no
one leaves. Sullivan, Temple, keep your eyes on me.”
    He squat-ran up the stairs and into the house.
    Avery made a move to go after him.
    “ Hold up. Hold up ,” a cop shouted.
    Finley exited the house with his arms wide in pleasant victory,
gun in hand.
    “That’s right,” he said. “Game