It sounded like a melon exploding.The blood spatter fanning out all over the asphalt. All over Klinger’s Caprice in an ultra fine spray.
Lena jumped to her feet and stared at the body beside her. Felt someone grab her hand and looked up in horror. Met Rhodes’s eyes and finally noticed that the sound of the shot was still reverberating within the fallen clouds. Still streaming through the darkness.
It couldn’t have been a pistol.
And Klinger wasn’t lying before them with a small hole in his head. The skin from his face had peeled away in a thin layer that reminded her of a latex glove. The image was still there, his identity intact. But everything else was gone.
She jerked her head around and looked behind them. Caught the three figures standing on the overpass behind the Lincoln. The trunk was open and she could see Barrera peering through a pair of binoculars. The chief lifting a long rifle off the handrail and passing it to the man she had seen sitting in the passenger seat.
It took a moment to comprehend what had actually happened. Lag time before the meaning reached her and finally jelled.
Chief Logan had just saved their lives-the same man who kept an M21 rifle mounted on his office wall beside his medals from the Vietnam War. For whatever reason, the former sniper had selected his target in the gloom and wiped it out with a single shot.
She watched Rhodes raise his hand in the air. She saw Barrera signal back that help was on its way. The moment was real. And even though she didn’t trust it, it took her breath away.
She turned to Klinger, her stomach in her throat. Rolling his body over, she pulled his belt away and grabbed her.45 and Rhodes’s Glock. Then they charged back down the hill.
The limo was still here, and so was the Audi-both cars smoldering in the cold heat. But it looked like the rats had heard the rifle shot and run for cover. Rhodes moved around the limo to the trunk, grabbed a handful of cash out of the duffel bag and tossed it in the air. They couldn’t have run very far. And it was more than obvious that they had every intention of coming back.
She turned and counted twelve pillars supporting the overpass. Then she kept watch as Rhodes started working his way down the line toward the trees and brush bordering the freeway. Visibility was still less than twenty-five feet. The first two columns were clear. But when he swept past the third, something scurried out on two legs and made a run for it. Rhodes fired two shots at point-blank range, then ran forward as the figure collapsed on the ground.
The silence returned and Lena waited, keeping her eyes on the support columns with her Smith amp; Wesson ready. Rhodes turned the body over in the mist.
“Dobbs,” he called out. “He’s not gonna make it.”
Lena waved back but knew that she was losing sight of Rhodes in the clouds and wouldn’t be able to cover him from the limo. After a quick look around, she legged it across the grass to the first column on the far side. She could see Rhodes pocketing Dobbs’s gun and patting down the man. When she checked her back, she spotted Ragetti rising out of the muck and realized that he had been hiding underneath the limo guarding the cash. Now his gun was raised and pointed at Rhodes. Directly behind Rhodes she could see Justin Tremell pulling away from his father and stepping out from behind a tree with Jennifer Bloom.
Lena turned back to Ragetti and aimed her.45, but knew that she was late on it. Knew that she didn’t see it in time.
She shouted Rhodes’s name, pulled the trigger, and felt the recoil. She saw Ragetti’s pistol flash in the darkness and heard the loud pop. Bloom screamed and Ragetti fell down. And then Dean Tremell cried out.
Lena picked up Ragetti’s gun and moved closer. No one had screamed or cried out for Phil Ragetti. And no one seemed concerned about Rhodes. He was on his feet and brushing himself off after hitting the ground.
Ragetti had pulled the trigger, missing one life and hitting another. And everyone’s eyes were glued on the luckless target. Justin Tremell had been hit in the center of his chest as he tried to flee with Bloom. The kid was lying on a bed of grass. His eyes were open, his gaze stamped out.
Headlights began streaming down the hill, the space filling with a light so bright that the fog looked more like smoke now. Dean Tremell didn’t seem to notice and staggered toward his son’s dead body. Wilting onto the ground, the old man drew his only son into his arms and began rocking him on his knee.
Lena glanced over at Rhodes, then pulled Jennifer Bloom away and guided her toward the approaching headlights. She could hear Tremell weeping behind her. She could hear his sorrow cutting into the night. She knew the tone and cadence from personal experience. Knew what the agony felt like and looked like. Knew how much the loss of a loved one could weigh down the soul.
And so did Jennifer Bloom.