MacAllister,” Will exclaimed. “You're so fucking useless.”
He snatched the pistol out of Taylor's hand and held the long, engraved barrel to his temple. “Here's what you do,” he said and pulled the trigger.
A blast of dust and exhaust filtered through the cracks in the car trunk, blew in Taylor's face, waking him. He began to choke.
Dangerous Ground: Old Poison
73
Chapter Nine
Yellow crime-scene tape cordoned Will's yard and lawn from the rest of the neighborhood and the spectators who had gathered. There was a horrifying red-brown stain at the end of the drive, where Varga had died.
The doors of Taylor's MDX stood open, and LAPD's crime-scene investigators were collecting and documenting evidence.
“Our theory is the perps damaged the MDX's starter coil at some point during the night and then left the scene,” Lt. Wray said.
She was a tall, lanky redhead in an ill-fitting suit. Other than the suit, she seemed to know what she was doing. Time would tell.
“Why would they leave the scene?”
“We don't think these were professionals. There's every indication the shooter was panicked into opening fire. Plus, you've got a pretty active neighborhood watch here. We're speculating that the perps didn't want to draw attention to themselves by parking on the street or loitering near your domicile. We think your partner came out early this morning, earlier than the perps were anticipating. He couldn't start his vehicle and went back inside to call Agent Varga.
Varga showed up, your partner walked outside, and this time they were waiting for him.”
“Quiet, Riley,” Will threw back at the dog, who had been barking ever since his arrival. To the cop, he said, “You have a partial on the Chevy's license plate?”
“Yes. We're running it now. So far we're not coming up with any matches. They may have switched plates with another car.” Wray hesitated. “If you're right about this being the same car that nearly hit Special Agent MacAllister on Saturday, they've been tracking him for some time.”
Why the hell hadn't Taylor listened to him? Why the hell did he always have to be such a damn bullhead? Except…Taylor had listened to Will last night. He'd stayed at Will's place like Will wanted. Will was the one who failed. If he'd been here…
74
Josh Lanyon
He shoved it aside, questioned, “ID on the perps?”
“Two. Male and female. The witness didn't get a clear look at the male. She thought he might have been Asian. Midtwenties. Possible gang tattoos. A little shorter than your partner and a little heavier. She thought he hit MacAllister with some kind of karate chop or martial arts move.”
“And the woman?”
“The woman is described as older, maybe even early fifties. Tall, athletic, Caucasian, brown hair. Our witness got a good look at her; she's going through mug shots now.”
Will nodded. If Taylor's attackers were not professional criminals, how useful were mug shots going to be?
“Any chance this is tied to a case he's working?” Wray asked.
“Doubtful. MacAllister was on sick leave for eight weeks and then desk duty for another month. He was only cleared for active duty this week, and it's a routine protection detail.”
“Then it's something personal.”
Reluctantly, Will said, “It looks that way.”
“Did your partner have any recent run-ins with anyone?”
Will filled Wray in on the altercation at the Red Dragon restaurant.
She heard him out but seemed unconvinced. “Doesn't really sound like the MO of any Latino gang I ever heard of.”
“I agree. And for what it's worth, that was MacAllister's take too.” Will knew he was going to have to tell her about the snake wine, the threatening note, and the dud bomb. He disliked cracking open the shell of Taylor's close-guarded privacy, but privacy meant little compared to getting Taylor back alive and in one piece.
When he'd filled Lt. Wray in on everything he could remember, she said thoughtfully, “Did he have
He snatched the pistol out of Taylor's hand and held the long, engraved barrel to his temple. “Here's what you do,” he said and pulled the trigger.
A blast of dust and exhaust filtered through the cracks in the car trunk, blew in Taylor's face, waking him. He began to choke.
Dangerous Ground: Old Poison
73
Chapter Nine
Yellow crime-scene tape cordoned Will's yard and lawn from the rest of the neighborhood and the spectators who had gathered. There was a horrifying red-brown stain at the end of the drive, where Varga had died.
The doors of Taylor's MDX stood open, and LAPD's crime-scene investigators were collecting and documenting evidence.
“Our theory is the perps damaged the MDX's starter coil at some point during the night and then left the scene,” Lt. Wray said.
She was a tall, lanky redhead in an ill-fitting suit. Other than the suit, she seemed to know what she was doing. Time would tell.
“Why would they leave the scene?”
“We don't think these were professionals. There's every indication the shooter was panicked into opening fire. Plus, you've got a pretty active neighborhood watch here. We're speculating that the perps didn't want to draw attention to themselves by parking on the street or loitering near your domicile. We think your partner came out early this morning, earlier than the perps were anticipating. He couldn't start his vehicle and went back inside to call Agent Varga.
Varga showed up, your partner walked outside, and this time they were waiting for him.”
“Quiet, Riley,” Will threw back at the dog, who had been barking ever since his arrival. To the cop, he said, “You have a partial on the Chevy's license plate?”
“Yes. We're running it now. So far we're not coming up with any matches. They may have switched plates with another car.” Wray hesitated. “If you're right about this being the same car that nearly hit Special Agent MacAllister on Saturday, they've been tracking him for some time.”
Why the hell hadn't Taylor listened to him? Why the hell did he always have to be such a damn bullhead? Except…Taylor had listened to Will last night. He'd stayed at Will's place like Will wanted. Will was the one who failed. If he'd been here…
74
Josh Lanyon
He shoved it aside, questioned, “ID on the perps?”
“Two. Male and female. The witness didn't get a clear look at the male. She thought he might have been Asian. Midtwenties. Possible gang tattoos. A little shorter than your partner and a little heavier. She thought he hit MacAllister with some kind of karate chop or martial arts move.”
“And the woman?”
“The woman is described as older, maybe even early fifties. Tall, athletic, Caucasian, brown hair. Our witness got a good look at her; she's going through mug shots now.”
Will nodded. If Taylor's attackers were not professional criminals, how useful were mug shots going to be?
“Any chance this is tied to a case he's working?” Wray asked.
“Doubtful. MacAllister was on sick leave for eight weeks and then desk duty for another month. He was only cleared for active duty this week, and it's a routine protection detail.”
“Then it's something personal.”
Reluctantly, Will said, “It looks that way.”
“Did your partner have any recent run-ins with anyone?”
Will filled Wray in on the altercation at the Red Dragon restaurant.
She heard him out but seemed unconvinced. “Doesn't really sound like the MO of any Latino gang I ever heard of.”
“I agree. And for what it's worth, that was MacAllister's take too.” Will knew he was going to have to tell her about the snake wine, the threatening note, and the dud bomb. He disliked cracking open the shell of Taylor's close-guarded privacy, but privacy meant little compared to getting Taylor back alive and in one piece.
When he'd filled Lt. Wray in on everything he could remember, she said thoughtfully, “Did he have
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