Gridlock: A Ryan Lock Novel by Sean Black

posted.’
    ‘Roger that. Lock?’
    ‘I’m here.’
    ‘If I get the drop on him and I think this is our guy?’
    ‘Do what you have to do. We have precedent with this one.’
    Ty knew exactly the precedent Lock was talking about. Back in 1995, a private-security contractor working for Madonna had shot and wounded an intruder at her compound in Malibu. No charges had been filed by the district attorney. The intruder posed a threat. He was on private property. The bodyguard had done what he was paid to do. There had been a few civil-rights lawyers who’d made some noise in the LA Times. But there was no debate to be had.
    Lock had made a point of not carrying a gun while they were in LA. Still technically a resident in California, even though he worked out of state a lot of the time, Ty didn’t have that problem. He had the permit courtesy of a local sheriff in a county near where he’d grown up in Long Beach. He and the sheriff had served together in the Marine Corps.
    Ty drew his weapon, turned to his immediate left, hit the light switch, plunging the hallway into a gloom that matched the deepening twilight outside, and started down the stairs.
    Lock spun the wheel, one-eightying the car, taking them north again and away from the house. Raven’s head snapped round. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
    ‘If the person who’s stalking you is at the house, I don’t plan on delivering you to him.’
    ‘But my brother’s there.’
    ‘He’s locked in the panic room, Ty’s there and the LAPD are on their way. Me slinging you into the mix, what do you think that’s likely to do? Make things better for your brother or worse?’
    Raven’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘I don’t care! I want you to turn this car around.’
    ‘Too bad,’ said Lock, his hands tightening on the wheel.
    Ty skirted around the side of the house, his gun held low. At the corner, he stopped and listened. Down the slope at the back the neighbour’s guard dog was barking, a constant stream of canine invective. But it might have been spooked by his movements.
    He rounded the corner. He couldn’t see anyone. The deck and the area around it were empty. He hunkered down and crept slowly forward. In his left hand he had a Maglite, but he kept it off. A light gave away your position: a bad idea when the enemy was unseen.
    A noise.
    Someone or something was moving about. A coyote come down from the hills to scavenge? The sound was coming from near by.
    He stared towards the vortex of the crawlspace, which lay under the deck. It was too dark for Ty to see anything.
    Then he heard another noise.
    There was definitely something down there.
    He angled the Maglite so it was facing towards him, then pressed it into his body and switched it on. A vague circle of light leaked on to the centre of his chest.
    As quickly as he could, he laid the torch on the ground with the beam punching out towards the area under the deck. Then he moved fast in the opposite direction. Falling into a low crouch, left leg forward, right knee bent, he aimed towards the crawl space lit by the Maglite.
    The figure was curled almost into a ball, chin tucked on to the chest, the black hood of a sweatshirt covering the face, hands dug into pockets.
    ‘Armed security!’ Ty bellowed. ‘Put your hands where I can see them.’
    No hands moved but a head was raised. Burrowed into the cowl of the hood, a pair of almond-shaped eyes stared back at Ty, the pupils wide with fear.
    Ty’s stomach turned over as he realized how close he’d come to shooting Kevin’s girlfriend, Wendy.
    He hunkered down, his hands shaking.
    ‘Come on out of there,’ he said, beckoning her towards him.
    She didn’t move. If anything, she seemed more afraid now than when he’d had the gun pointed at her.
    It took Ty a second to register that she was looking behind him. Grabbing for his gun, he spun round in time to see a man’s darkened outline running past and down the side of the house.
    ‘Wait there,’