“Now let go of the girl until I can establish you’re a cop.”
Establish I’m a cop? What the fuck’s he talking about? Unless he saw everything go down. Was he working an observation post too?
Then it hits me and it’s like a mental crash.
He’s one of the men I observed entering the row house late last night. It’s too early for day shift, so he has to be working midnights; I’ll bet that’s his little hoochie mama’s spot. I’m betting he’s the one Little Monster called. He got here quickly enough. He’s more than likely taking care of that spot for Cordell and he’s dirty as shit.
Fuck.
“Her parents hired me to find her. I’m a retired DC police detective.”
“Retired?” Miriam blurts.
“I got her real name and DOB. Go over the air with it. You’ll find she’s reported missing out of Fairfax County.”
“Let her come to me. I’ll run her name in my cruiser.”
“My name’s Frank Marr. I retired two years ago, out of Narcotics Branch. You can raise Detective Scott Davidson over the citywide channel. He’s on the case, and should be coming on for daywork about now. He’ll come down here and straighten this out.”
He steps out from behind his door, weapon still on me. He moves forward a couple of feet like a well-trained tactical officer.
“If you need to go over Detective Davidson, then raise your watch commander to respond. I’ll release the girl to your supervisor. I’m responsible for her; that’s all I’m saying.”
He looks at me like he’s running everything through his head. The situation fucked all around, and the last thing I want is for him to realize he messed up and called me out as a cop. In fact, maybe he already realized that and he’s trying to figure out how to get out of this one—I’m hoping he wants to get out of it clean.
“Officer, I know you’re all about doing the job right. This isn’t your normal run. This girl’s gonna bolt if I let her go.”
“I told you, I’m not going to run. Just do what he says and let me go.”
“So raise your watch commander over the air and you’ll be the hero for getting her home.”
“Daywork’s about to come on. Midnight’s already rolled in, so walk her over to me and I’ll sit her in the back of the cruiser for the shift change. We’ll call my supervisor after.”
Somehow I doubt that, but what choice do I have? This is seriously fucked up.
“Just come fucking get me, Tommy,” she yells.
“Shut the hell up, girl. Shit.”
I grip her wrist tighter.
“Ow,” she says.
“Officer, I don’t care what you got working here. I just want to get her home. You got a lot of lights coming on in a lot of these homes, and I’m sure a lot of residents watching all this through their windows. Units are probably already on their way. Just let me get her in the car and we’ll roll outta here.”
“No. Don’t let him do that,” Miriam cries.
“I said shut up,” he orders her again. “Now, you’re going to let her go and she’ll walk to me, and then you can get in your car and roll out of here.”
I let her go, I’ll probably find myself kissing the pavement, maybe even kissing my own blood. We got ourselves a standoff here, because he’s not going to do anything stupid while I got her close. At least I hope he’s not. I sure as hell ain’t gonna let her go. I know that much.
A fucked-up-looking hooptie with a loud engine, Virginia dealer tags, and tinted windows eases to the stop sign at 17th.
The officer turns to watch it, his gun still pointing my way, but the hooptie doesn’t seem to bother him. He turns back to us.
“This is the last time I ask; then I’ll come for her myself. You don’t want me to do that, so let her go.”
The hooptie turns slowly onto Euclid and moves our way.
I can see Playboy driving. The passenger is leaning back, so I can’t make him out.
I start moving back to the front of my car for cover.
“Don’t move,” he commands.
I notice a barrel of a weapon, like a TEC-9, barely out the passenger’s side window of the hooptie.
“They got a gun!” I yell out.
He turns, but it’s too late. Bullets spray, cartridges ejecting out of the window.
I push Miriam on the ground in front of my car and yell to her, “Stay down!”
The officer doesn’t have time to get a shot off. I see his feet falling out from under him as he takes a hit.
I don’t have time to draw my weapon. I hear the bullets whizzing by, too fucking close, hitting my car door, shattering windows. I dive over the hood of my car, sliding belly-first across it. I slam my left shoulder against the front door of a car I’m double-parked beside, and then land on the pavement hard, wedged between the two vehicles.
Breath escapes me for a second.
I turn to grab Miriam and pull her in to me, but she’s already crawled around to the other side of another car parked in front of the one I landed against. She’s in a fetal position on the curb near the front tire, cradling her head with her hands.