‘Like Demetrius and Alice,’ Marcus said. ‘They met the Bautistas at the airport and drove them to Cincinnati.’

Scarlett ticked off a second finger. ‘Then we have to find Tommy and Edna to find out if they can put that bastard Drake Connor on the street yesterday when Tala was shot. Third, we want to find out if Demetrius fits into the Woody McCord story.’

Marcus’s cell phone buzzed against the table. He grabbed it, read it, then closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging. ‘Oh God,’ he breathed. ‘Thank you.’

Scarlett looked over his shoulder, her smile bright. ‘It’s a text from Phillip’s sister, Lisette. Phillip just woke up and asked for Skyline Chili.’

‘You can take him a copy of the sketch,’ Deacon said to Scarlett while Marcus immediately called the victim’s sister. ‘See if he can ID his attacker.’

‘I’d rather wait till we have an ID and a photo we can put in an array,’ Scarlett said. ‘I don’t want any lawyers saying later that we led the witness.’

Deacon frowned. ‘You’re right, but it would be tidy to have IDs for all of yesterday’s shootings.’

Scarlett checked the time. ‘In another twelve hours or so we’ll have DNA on the shooter in Marcus’s apartment. The forensic vet got tissue from BB’s teeth. It won’t give us a name for this guy, but when we find him, it’ll give us corroboration.’

Both Deacon and Scarlett’s cell phones buzzed at the same time. They grabbed them, then cursed in unison. ‘Fuck.’

Marcus ended his call. ‘What? What’s happened?’

‘Someone took a shot at one of the ankle tracker makers as he was being taken into CPD,’ Scarlett told him. ‘He wasn’t hurt, but the agent next to him took a bullet in the arm when he pushed the tracker guy out of the way. No fatalities.’

Deacon breathed a sigh of relief. He was still shaken by his notification of Agent Spangler’s wife yesterday. Then his and Scarlett’s phones buzzed with a second text. They read the incoming, then looked at each other with wide grins.

Scarlett caught Marcus around the neck and pulled him down for a loud, smacking kiss on the mouth. ‘They caught the shooter who tried to kill the ankle tracker guy,’ she said.

Deacon’s phone buzzed alone this time. ‘From Kate. She and Agent Troy were the ones who caught the shooter.’ His grin widened. ‘Go, Kate. Pretty good for her second day.’

Deacon dialed Kate’s phone and put her on speaker. ‘It’s me. I’m here with Scarlett and Marcus. I hear congratulations are in order.’

‘Hell, yeah,’ Kate said. ‘Damn, I’m juiced right now. Shooter’s a female, blond, mid-twenties. She was on the roof of a building across the street from CPD. We surrounded her as she was squeezing the trigger. That’s why she missed the lab tech from Constant Global Surveillance. We yelled “Gun!” into the radio and the agents took the lab tech down. A few seconds different and we’d have been burying the guy. She had a direct bead on him.’

‘How did you know to look on the roof?’ Marcus asked.

A long pause, then a sigh from Kate. ‘We had a tip. That’s all I can say, for now anyway. Sorry.’

Scarlett looked at Deacon, her brows raised, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing – the man the Bureau had inside one of the organized crime operations had provided the tip.

‘Things are finally coming together,’ she told Kate. ‘We’re getting close to an ID on the shooter who took out Agent Spangler, the guard in Marcus’s building, who’s still unconscious, and Phillip Cauldwell, who’s just woken up.’

‘Excellent news about Cauldwell. I’m going to interview the quality tech right away. He’s so shaken up from almost getting shot that he should sing like a bird. So if you want to observe, you need to hurry. Deacon, I’d like you to do the interview with me. Like I said, I’m a little juiced.’

Deacon smiled at his phone. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’ He sobered then, thinking of Agent Spangler. ‘What about the roof shooter? Was she using the same kind of rifle as the sniper who took out Spangler and almost got Marcus?’

‘No,’ Kate said. ‘Different rifles, different bullets, different range. I have a feeling the chick will be a hard nut to crack. She’s got attitude to spare. I may save her for later. She hasn’t said a word other than the initial “Fuck!” when we spoiled her shot. She’s not giving her name. We printed her and I’d like to give Latent a little time to put ’em through AFIS. I want to know who I’m dealing with when I go into interview with her.’

‘Makes sense,’ Scarlett said, looking torn. ‘I really want to be part of the interview, but we have other priorities.’

‘We’ll record it,’ Deacon promised. ‘Go. Wear body armor.’

‘I absolutely will,’ Scarlett said fervently. ‘What with snipers shooting off roofs. Shit. Let’s plan on a debrief in Isenberg’s conference room at eighteen hundred. I’m going to check on the Bautistas before we head out. Bye, Kate.’

Cincinnati, Ohio

Wednesday 5 August, 2.30 P.M.

Alice was gone. Taken. In custody. Standing in the middle of his living room, Ken stared at the shattered picture window that had been the target of his immediate rage. Now he was numb. Drained. What now? What do I do now?

Hearing the crash, Decker ran from the upstairs bedroom, where he’d been tending Demetrius, to peer over the balustrade that ran between the twin spiral staircases.

‘Mr Sweeney!’ Decker shouted, running down the stairs as Ken stood unmoving. ‘Get down.’ He took Ken down in a tackle that was reminiscent of the time the young man had saved him a year ago. Except this time there were no bullets. No danger. Not here. Nothing to see except the destruction Ken had caused himself. Literally and figuratively.

After a second of dead silence, Decker lifted his head and frowned. ‘Wait. The glass is broken out. Not in. Crap.’ He leaped to his feet in a graceful movement and held his hand out to pull Ken up. ‘I’m so sorry, sir. Did I hurt you?’

Ken rolled to sit up, too spent from his tantrum to stand. He waved Decker’s helping hand aside. ‘No, Decker. I’m perfectly fine.’ Yep, he thought sourly, I’m perfectly fine, perfectly protected, while my daughter sits in jail.

‘I thought someone was shooting at you. What happened here?’ Decker checked out the window that Ken had smashed to smithereens. A pedestal that used to hold a five-hundred-year-old Chinese vase was empty, pieces of ceramic strewn on the floor. The antique chair his mother had once loved now lay on the ground outside, covered in glass.

‘I threw the chair at the window.’

Decker’s expression became wary. ‘Why?’

Ken rubbed his eyes wearily. ‘Alice was arrested.’ He’d just gotten the news from Sean, who’d been equally devastated.

‘Oh no,’ Decker murmured. ‘How, sir?’

‘I sent her after the employee of Constant Global Surveillance who’d been taken into custody for supplying our ankle trackers. She was supposed to kill Demetrius’s contact before he went into CPD, but they caught her on the roof. Had her surrounded before she could set up her shot. She missed the bastard and got taken into custody.’

‘Oh shit,’ Decker murmured.

Ken turned narrowed eyes on the young man who could have been a model or a football player or anything else he’d wanted to be, yet had come to work for Ken for a paltry salary. ‘It was almost like they knew she would be there ahead of time.’

Decker went still. ‘Are you accusing me of something, sir?’

‘Maybe. All of this started when you called me yesterday morning. You’re new to my company, but you’ve ingratiated yourself into my service very quickly.’

Decker’s jaw was like granite. ‘No, sir. I do not agree. May I respectfully remind you that I’ve worked for you for three years. That I was your bodyguard for all but one month out of those years. That I walked in front of a bullet for you, sir. All of this started when your personal leadership team began to fall apart. Joel drinks like a fish. I was always fixing his mistakes on the legit books. I don’t even want to think about how he’s mucked up the real books. Demetrius snorts coke and generally goofs up anything that doesn’t require his fists, and Reuben, wherever the hell he is, is a sex addict. That’s how all this started.’ He was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring. ‘Sir.’