Tessa was sandwiched on the couch between the two officers, pretending to watch some lame TV show with them.
Sitting on the couch like a family. Watching TV with two cops. How pathetic.
Like a family.
She thought of Patrick and being at that crime scene earlier in the day. And picturing the legs of a dead woman- her sawed-off legs! -on a treadmill. It was too much. Flying in here, meeting up with Patrick. Hearing about those people in the fire. Too much. Way too much.
She’d seen those buildings burning on his computer.
There were bodies inside the buildings.
Dead people.
She needed to cut herself. Tonight.
She stood up.
“Where are you going?” asked Officer Muncey.
“Just to the bathroom, OK!”
As she walked away she heard Officer Muncey mumble, “I thought I was done babysitting when I got out of high school.” She whispered the words, but Tessa heard her. She heard every syllable.
Tessa locked the bathroom door and pulled the razor blade out of her purse.
I turned on my flashlight. Leapt to my feet. Scanned the room.
He was gone.
Lien-hua was down.
“Lien-hua!” I ran to her.
She stirred. Rubbed her head. “Blindsided me,” she muttered. Her eyes slowly came into focus. He’d just knocked her down. That was all. “But I got two kicks in first.”
She’d had less than a second. Two kicks? Amazing.
“I heard a shot,” I said.
“It wasn’t me.”
I turned around. The window was shattered. I had no visual on the suspect. “He’s mobile. I repeat, the subject is mobile,” I yelled into my mic.
Did he get past me?
Alice!
I ran back to the bathroom. “Alice?”
“Did you get him?” her voice quavered.
“We’re going to.”
She stared at me from the shower, fully clothed, a bulletproof vest on. All part of the plan. Lien-hua had staged the shower, slipped into the bedroom to lure him out. At least Alice’s kids weren’t here; that was good. Federal protection. She’d be joining them in a few minutes. I heard shots fired outside and made it to the window just in time to see a dark form leap over a fence three houses away and disappear. Someone lay facedown in the backyard. A police officer.
“Officer down!” I yelled. We were ready to contain the killer, had roadblocks in place around the whole neighborhood, but I hadn’t expected him to move so quickly.
“Suspect heading south along Virginia Street,” somebody said. “Any word?” I yelled into my mic patch. “Anybody?” I heard shouts and confused voices. Then Wallace’s voice: “Cherokee Avenue heading west.”
He’s left-handed… Left-handed subjects tend to turn right when fleeing, but when they meet an obstacle, they move to their left
…
Wait, he would know that.
“Get to the fence,” I hollered. “Suspect will head west through the field, then north at the fence. Cut him off. I repeat, west then north.”
A voice came back. “Unit three in pursuit.”
I ran to the bedroom window and stared out across the neighborhood, trying to orient myself to the landscape again, to map out the streets and overlay them against the topography. “All units on the perimeter,” I said, “suspect is male, white, six foot one, two-hundred pounds, wearing black pants, black sweatshirt. Armed and dangerous. Approach with extreme care.”
If only there were square city blocks here. It would be so much easier to contain him.
“Get to Richmond Avenue,” I yelled. “He’ll be heading for the strip of woods running south by southeast. Hurry. If he gets to the subdivision beyond the river, there’ll be too many places for him to hide. Hold your positions. Control all exits.”
I stared out across the street, saw the outlet roads being shut down by our roadblock, saw the string of slowing taillights as the streets leading into and out of the subdivision were sealed off. A few police cars raced to the scene, an ambulance flashed by and then nudged through the roadblock, bringing help to the injured officer lying on the lawn. Just then, the helicopters came roaring in. Too late. Everything was too late.
Still no electricity. “Can we get these lights on?” I yelled. I heard the shuffle of feet as some officers headed to the circuit breaker. Then Dante’s voice in my ear. “He’s not here. It’s like he disappeared into thin air.”
I smashed my fist into the wall.
Ralph burst through the door.
“He made it to the subdivision,” I muttered. “We can search house to house, but there are too many places for him to hide in there. My guess is we lost him.”
Ralph began filling the room with curses. “What happened to these lights?”
I shook my head. “He must have used a small electromagnetic pulse device. Maybe planted it in the dining room or connected it to the security alarm on his way in. He had the trigger hidden beside his ear.”
I heard an officer from the living room. “I’ve got it, right here!” “A trigger by his ear?” said Lien-hua.
Someone must have found the breaker; the lights came back on again.
“It’s not that uncommon,” I said. “Suicide bombers sometimes thread a detonator cord up their shirt and tape it to the back of their neck or hide it behind their ear so if they’re told to put their hands on their head they can still detonate their device. I shouldn’t have let him move his hands in close like that.”
He got away. Again.
He was ready for us.
Ralph turned to Lien-hua. “You OK?”
“I’m fine.” She kicked the closet door with a yell, splitting it in half. Her voice was on fire. “We had him. I can’t believe he got away!”
Ralph was admiring her work on the door. “Nice kick.”
I glanced out the window. “Thank God that officer was wearing a bulletproof vest.” One of the paramedics was helping her to her feet, leading her to the ambulance.
“All right, people, listen,” Ralph shouted to the pack of officers now entering the house. “We go door to door. Let’s move!”