“Translated, she wanted company on the drive out here.” Blake laughed.

  Emory grinned at her husband. “I have never been able to fool this guy. Not from the moment I met him.”

  “Actually, you did.” Blake looked at the others. “She has a twin sister who was missing a few years ago. I was a sheriff back then and tasked with finding Cait. I showed up at Veritas and almost fell over when I saw Emory.”

  “I didn’t know I had a twin,” Emory said. “We were separated at birth. So I almost fell over, too, once we figured things out by looking at Cait’s DNA that Blake brought to have analyzed.”

  “That’s some story,” Ian said.

  “You don’t know the half of it.” Blake chuckled.

  Ian heard a vehicle turning into the drive, and he spun to see the state van pull in.

  “Looks like we’re all here,” Ian said. “I’ll go tell Peck and get his permission to head to the barn.”

  Malone stepped over to him. “I’ll come with you in case he needs convincing.”

  Emory’s eyebrows rose above her black glasses. “I thought he already agreed.”

  “He did,” Ian said. “But he seems like the kind of guy who might change his mind on a whim.”

  “Then by all means, go.” Emory made a shooing motion with her hands. “I don’t want our trip out here to be a waste.”

  “It’s not a waste to spend quality time in the middle of a workday with your spouse,” Blake said. “And I even bought you a burger on the way.”

  Ian smiled at their bantering as he and Malone walked to the house.

  “They’re a cute couple,” Malone said.

  Ian nodded but didn’t want to get into a discussion about couples. It could lead to the growing feelings between him and Malone when he had a job to do. He knocked on the door and stood back, enjoying the soft breeze playing over his skin and the warm sun on his face.

  Peck answered the door in his mobility scooter. “I see you got quite the group here.”

  “Are we good to go out to the garage, or do you want to take us out there?” Ian asked.

  Peck tilted his head. “Don’t mind you going out there, but I’d like to watch those CSI people at work.”

  “Okay, sure,” Ian said, surprised at the older man’s interest. “As long as you stay on the sidelines.”

  He frowned.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Peck,” Malone said. “I’m sidelined too. We can keep each other company.”

  He smiled up at Malone. “Then lead the way, missy.”

  They started for the garage, and Ian waved the team on. They would want to move their vans closer to the building to keep from hauling equipment. He got the garage door open and waited for the two vans to back in and park.

  Ian introduced his team to Peck, and then Deborah from the state lab introduced herself and Vance, the criminalist. He nodded but didn’t seem very interested in the group.

  Ian liked that about Vance. He was there to do a job, and he was focused on his mission. Didn’t mean Ian wouldn’t take a look at the car again while he was here. He trusted the techs, but he trusted his own eye better for finding things that could relate to a homicide.

  “Let me get photos before anyone enters the garage.” Vance had already slipped into the Tyvek suit, booties, and gloves, and he slung a camera strap over his head before moving toward the garage.

  Ian went to the box of gloves and booties on the back of the van, then stood next to Malone and Peck off to the side of the open door. He watched Vance snap his photos.

  “Be sure to get close-ups of the tie rods when you’re done with the wide-angle shots,” Emory called out.

  “Not my first rodeo,” Vance yelled back. After he’d taken his wide-angle pictures of the car, he looked back. “You can begin now, but don’t touch anything before I shoot it.”

  Ian looked at Emory and Deborah. “I’ll do a quick search of the vehicle again in case I missed anything the other day. Let me know if I’m in your way.”

  The DNA scientists nodded, and he slipped on the booties and gloves.

  Ian stayed well away from Vance, who squatted by one of the questionable tires. He angled his camera but frowned, then lay down on his back to scoot under the car.

  The convertible top had been retracted, allowing Ian to lean over the crushed driver’s side door, where it was obvious that no one could have survived the mangled wreckage. He felt around the leather seat that had been pushed into the back. He slid his hands in the crease but didn’t find anything. He moved on to the back seat. Same thing.

  Ian quickly slipped around the vehicle before Deborah or Emory swooped in. He checked the creases in the back seat, then on the passenger side and found nothing. The seat and floor mat had been shifted back, so he lifted the mat and felt under the seat. His fingers touched something, and he pulled out a torn off slice of paper. The edge looked as if it had been ripped from a thread-bound book, not a notepad. Before he did anything more with the paper, even turn it over to look for any writing, he called out to Vance to take a photo.

  He stomped over there. “What do you have?”

  Ian explained.

  Vance sighed. “I would’ve found that in due time.”

  “I know,” Ian said but didn’t apologize for looking.

  Vance snapped pictures. He grabbed a plastic tent number and scale from his bag and set them next to the paper and took additional pictures. “I’ll get an evidence bag.”

  Ian flipped the paper over. In neat writing someone had printed the words Detective Wisniewski 12:30. Ian took his own picture, then left the garage to talk to Malone.

  He motioned for her to join him out of Peck’s earshot. “I remember the accident report said your parents crashed around eleven-thirty a.m., but do you know where they were headed?”

  “No one knew where they were going. Just that they were heading west.”

  “Any chance they could’ve been on their way to see a detective?” Ian held out his phone to display the photo he’d taken.

  Her eyes flashed wide. “If they were, it might make more sense that someone ended their lives to stop them.”

  As it neared the dinner hour, Malone climbed into the Nighthawk SUV with Ian and the Byrd brothers for the drive home. Her stomach was tied in knots. It had been a good news, bad news kind of day, and she was letting the bad news win. On the positive side, Emory had located DNA on the tie rods. On the negative side, her parents might’ve been on the way to see a detective when they died, and her mind was racing with reasons why they needed to see one.

  Had someone been threatening them? Harassing them? Had they been afraid for their lives? Terrified even?

  She knew how that felt. Sort of, anyway. Through her clients. Battered women who wanted to protect themselves and their children from monstrous men who loved to pummel others. As the miles rolled past, the memories of the fear in those women’s eyes just kept battering Malone, and her gut was on fire with acid.

  Please, please don’t let my parents have been fearing for their lives. I can’t bear the thought of the people I loved most in the world being in such a situation.

  But the note was written in her mother’s handwriting, and Detective Wisniewski did exist. While they’d waited for the forensics to be processed on the vehicle, Ian had made some calls to ask about the detective. He finally learned that the guy had worked at the Washington County Sheriff’s Department, the agency that patrolled the area where her parents’ home was located. The detective was retired now, and the sheriff’s office didn’t have a current address for him, so Ian was trying to get the detective’s details.

  His phone chimed, and he looked at the screen. “It’s Nick.”

  Ian answered. “I’m with Malone and a few of the Byrd brothers. Mind if I put you on speaker?”

  “Go for it. They’ll want to hear this.” His adrenaline-packed voice came over the phone even before Ian tapped his speaker button.

  “Okay, go ahead,” Ian said.

  “My search to connect Ground Floor Builders with Flagg Contracting was a bust. I didn’t find any projects they worked on together or any connection between the company executives and Flagg. And both companies have solid reputations.”

  “I didn’t think you’d find a connection, even a legit one,” Ian said. “Two different construction worlds. Plus, I might not like Flagg’s personality, but he seems like he’s on the up and up.”

  “That’s my take,” Nick said. “I can keep the search running indefinitely, but I wouldn’t pin my focus on this connection.”

  “Okay,” Ian said. “What else do you have?”

  “Your shooter’s name.”

  “Way to bury the lead,” Ian grumbled.

  “Who is it?” Malone leaned closer to the phone.

  “Mickey Snipes. He’s Olivo’s other lieutenant.”

  “How did you find him?” Ian asked.

  “We got a few responses to the partial facial recognition photo, so when you texted me the info about Junior’s connection to Olivo, I added those details to my algorithms. Snipes came up and looks like he’s our guy.” Nick sounded so proud of himself, and he should be. “I’ll text photos for you to look at as soon as I hang up.”

  “We still don’t have a way to place him at the murder scene,” Ian said, sounding discouraged. “At least not a way that will get us an arrest warrant. Our best hope is connecting him to the other murder where the gun was first used.”

  “I thought about that, too, so I cross-referenced the information on the gun,” Nick said. “Snipes knew the guy who was taken out, but I didn’t find a strong connection.”

  “I’ve got a call in to the drug squad for them to locate the old murder file for me,” Ian said.

  “Get back to me if there’s anything you learn that might help my searches,” Nick said. “And after you look at the pictures of Snipes, let me know if you don’t think he’s your guy, and I’ll keep searching.”

  “Thanks, man.” Ian ended the call. His phone dinged. “Pictures of Snipes from Nick.”

  He held his phone out to Malone.

  Her stomach clenched as a mug shot of a white male with dark hair cut short, a broad nose, and a long narrow face filled the screen. “The shape of his face is right. I need to see a full body picture.”

  Ian swiped through a few more closeup photos to a shot where Snipes stood outside a local bar, his thumb hooked into his jeans.

  “Oh my gosh.” She pointed at his hand. “That’s what I’ve been forgetting. He has a birthmark in the shape of a heart. It’s so small you can almost miss it. But I saw it when he put the gun in my hand. Zoom in so we can see if I’m right.”

  Ian pinched his fingers over the photo, revealing the birthmark.

  She grabbed onto Ian’s arm. “It’s him. Nick’s right. He’s the shooter.”

  “Yeah, we got him all right.” Ian smiled. “And you can testify to seeing the birthmark.”

  She nodded. “Which means once you arrest Snipes, I could be out of danger.”

  Ian’s smile fell. “Unless Olivo wants to help out his lieutenant and stop you from testifying. That could escalate the danger.”

  Malone’s heart sank.

  “Sorry,” Ian said. “I had to tell you the truth no matter how it hurts.”

  “I know, but you could’ve maybe given me a few minutes of peace.” She attempted to laugh but couldn’t really force one out.

  Ian took her hand. Shocked, she looked at his face, then glanced at Clay to see if he noticed. He had a knowing look on his face, so yeah, he’d noticed all right. But Ian didn’t seem to care. Which touched her heart. He was thinking of her, not the investigation. Not the Byrd brothers. Just her.

  She looked back at him and smiled in earnest this time. He clasped her hand tighter. They didn’t say anything, just sat linked together for the remainder of the drive. Even when Aiden pulled into the driveway, Ian kept holding on.

  He leaned closer to her. “I’ll be taking off to get an arrest warrant for Snipes. If we can find him, we’ll bring him in.”

  She nodded, wishing he didn’t have to go. She wanted him to come inside and see where this handholding led. Which was precisely why it was a good reason for him to leave.

  But she couldn’t let him go on such a dangerous mission without letting him know she cared.

  “Be careful,” she whispered and clung to his hand. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  10

  Near the SERT tactical van, Ian pinned his focus to the front door of Snipes’s small bungalow in an older area of the city where homes were in need of repair, Londyn doing the same thing next to him. The Special Emergency Reaction Team commander knocked on the worn wood with flaking white paint. He was dressed in all black gear with tactical vest, helmet, and face shield, just like the rest of his team. They held assault rifles and stood at the ready, should they get a negative response from Snipes.

  Ian wanted to make the arrest himself, Londyn too, but department policy required SERT be called in for high-risk warrants where the suspect was probably armed or was believed to be involved in a criminal act like murder.

  “Police!” the commander shouted. “We need to speak with you, Mr. Snipes.”

  As Ian and Londyn waited for him to answer, Ian glanced at the SERT members positioned in strategic locations on the property, though he couldn’t see the ones stationed at the back door.

  “He’s running,” the commander called out.

  No. He wasn’t getting away. Ian bolted from his location. The bulky vest got in his way, and he tugged it down as he ran. Gun drawn, he charged across the lawn and down the side yard.

  The side door banged open, taking out the SERT officer positioned there. Unarmed, Snipes bolted toward the back fence. Ian kicked into gear.

  Pounding over brown grass. Snipes moving fast. Faster! The worn wooden fence loomed ahead. If Snipes made it over the top, they could lose him.

  Ian couldn’t let that happen.

  Snipes clasped the top of the boards. Ian had no choice. No choice at all.

  He launched himself into the air. Grabbed Snipes by the shoulders. Jerked him down to the ground, dirt pillowing around them.

  Dragging in air, Ian quickly got to his feet and put a knee in Snipes’s back. “Mickey Snipes, I’m arresting you for resisting arrest and the murder of Gilbert Flagg Jr.”

  “Didn’t kill no one,” Snipes grumbled. “And no one said anything about arrest to me. I was just going for a walk in my backyard.”

  Ian didn’t respond to the guy’s comment. Whatever Ian said could be used in court by Snipes’s attorney. Being part of Olivo’s tribe, Ian could bet the attorney would be highly paid and very talented. Ian slapped cuffs on Snipes’s wrists, spotting the heart-shaped birthmark.

  He was their guy. Ian couldn’t wait to tell Malone.

  He swept his hands over the guy’s body, surprised when he didn’t find a gun or knife. No weapon at all. Ian didn’t know why the guy had run, but he at least didn’t carry a weapon and make things worse for himself.

  Ian drew Snipes to his feet and turned him around to read him his rights.

  “We have a warrant for your arrest and one to search your house and vehicles.” Ian took the documents from his pocket and put them in Snipes’s shirt pocket “If there’s anything you’d like to tell us, now would be a good time.”

  “Yeah, don’t leave the toilet seat up.” He laughed hard, but it sounded forced.

  Ian gestured at the SERT officer who’d been knocked down and was now standing nearby with the commander. “My friends here will be taking you down to county lockup.”

  The officer stepped forward and put his hand on Snipes’s shoulder, the other on his cuffed hands, then started him moving forward as Londyn joined them.

  “This’s no skin off my nose,” Snipes called over his shoulder. “I’ll be out in a blink of an eye. You’ll see. Back out in a flash.”

  “He could be right,” Ian said to Londyn. “Olivo will likely send an attorney to at least try to bail the guy out.”

  “I don’t appreciate you going cowboy on me.” The commander marched up to Ian. “We’re here for a reason.”

  “He would’ve scaled the fence,” Ian said.

  “Then we would’ve scaled it after him.” The commander lifted his face shield. “Know that this will go in my report.”

  “You do what you have to do.” Ian made a mental note to tell his LT to expect blowback from this arrest. “Did your men clear the house?”

  The commander nodded. “It’s all yours.”

  He stormed away.

  “You’re going to get a hand slap,” Londyn said.

  “As long as that’s all it is, I’m good.” Ian changed his focus to the house. “Let’s see what we can find inside that will make everyone forget about me failing to follow procedure.”

  Londyn headed for the door that Snipes had bolted out of, and Ian followed her.

  They entered through a tiny kitchen with old cabinets and stained countertops. The room smelled like garlic and onions, and the scent carried through a small dining room and into a hallway.

  “I’ll take his bedroom.” Ian pointed down the hallway. “You take the family room.”

  They split, and Ian passed a small bedroom and reached another one set up as an office. He paused to step inside and look at the papers on the desk. The usual bills and junk mail were stacked on one end. He put on gloves and flipped through the envelopes but didn’t find anything of interest. He wanted to look at the laptop, but he wouldn’t wake it up and change the state of the machine, which might interfere with evidence. He needed to get the computer techs out there as soon as possible.

  The closet was empty, so he moved on, walking past a bathroom straight out of the forties with turquoise wall tile and black and white floor tiles. Next up was a larger, but still small, bedroom at the end of the hall. The king-sized bed took up most of the room, and the covers were rumpled in a bunch at the foot of the mattress.