Best Laid Plans (Lucy Kincaid, #9)

“Almost?”


He held up a small videotape. “No one said a word other than admitting to hearing the shots, and the time was consistent with the nine-one-one calls that came in. However, I got a hint that one of the homeowners wouldn’t care if I took this tape out of a camera he had mounted on the corner of his garage. If the getaway car went south, it’s here. If it didn’t, we have nothing.”

“Fifty-fifty chance? I’ll take it,” Brad said to Ryan. “Anything else, Ash?”

“Naw. We’ll be here another hour or two. It’s going to take a few days for the coroner’s report, but from the amount of blood, they all died from gunshot wounds. If there’s anything odd, Jerry’ll let you know.”

“I’m particularly interested in the bullets and if you can determine how many shooters, vehicles, and prints.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, give me a little time and I’ll have the answers. I’ll run all prints through AFIS. We have already identified most of the deceased, and the others we should have by tomorrow.”

“We might be able to get more information from the families,” Ryan said.

“Maybe.” Brad wasn’t optimistic. “Let’s focus on IDing the female victims and child. Those families might be more willing to talk to us.”

“The female victims were Julianna Romero and Maria Romero,” Ash said, looking down at his notes. “They both had purses with photo identification.” He shook his head. “Sisters. I feel bad for that family.”

“I’ll bet the kid belonged to one of them,” Brad said. “Find the family and go from there.”

“I’m going to finish up here then send ya’ll my report.” Ash waved his hand as he departed and went back inside the strip mall.

“Thanks for coming out,” Jerry said to Brad and Ryan. “SAPD appreciates your assistance.”

“Anytime, Jerry,” Brad said. “Keep me in the loop, and if I learn anything I’ll pass it on.”

“Do you want to talk to the girl’s family?” Jerry asked.

“You take a run at them, this is still an SAPD case,” Brad said. “If you get any wonky vibes, call me.”

“Are you back on duty?” Ryan asked.

“Desk duty,” Brad said. “But I’ll clear it with Archer.” Samantha Archer, his boss, had been a stickler for him staying at his damn desk, but Brad had a feeling she was reacting more emotionally than professionally. He just needed to get his doctor to give him the official all clear. “And I’ll get that damn doctor’s note,” he added.

Brad and Ryan walked back to where they’d parked in an open field across the street.

Brad asked, “You want to come to my office and look at the tape?”

“I can’t. I have my boys this week and need to pick them up at my mom’s.”

“How are they?”

“Good, thanks. I miss them. Divorce sucks.”

“It’s why I never married.”

Brad opened his car door. Before he could leave, Ryan asked, “You asked Juan for Lucy. Why?”

“It wasn’t personal.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“What happened in Hidalgo?”

Brad couldn’t give Lucy up—not only would she get in trouble, but he would be suspended for lying in a report. She’d already told him that Juan suspected she’d gone down to Mexico to help rescue him from Sanchez and Trejo, but she hadn’t admitted it, and Juan hadn’t said a word. Sam Archer had no clue what had really happened at Trejo’s compound, and Brad had no desire to fill her in on the details. He would only get reprimanded, but Lucy could lose her job.

“All I can say, Ryan, is that if it weren’t for Lucy, I’d be dead. So would those boys. Whatever she did or didn’t do, her motives were pure. The last two months have been rough on her.”

“I know,” Ryan said. “I’m partly to blame, I was hard on her. But, Brad—it’s hard to trust your partner when she isn’t honest with you.”

“Believe me, after what happened in my own operation, I get it.” One of his own people, someone he trusted explicitly, had been working with the cartel and was party to the murder of a band of Marines who were transporting recovered weapons back to the States. Nicole Rollins was now in jail pending trial, though word was that she wanted to make a deal. If Brad had his way, there would be no deal: Nicole would be tried for treason and murder and executed.

There was really nothing left to say on the subject. Ryan would come around—Brad thought he already had, it was just his ego that was still wounded.

“Speaking of your former partner,” Ryan said. “She might know something about this attack. She was high up in the Trejo/Sanchez organization. She might talk to you.”