Kevin Byrne stood in front of the boarded-up retail space. He was alone. The storefront looked as if it had housed a variety of enterprises over the years. The windows were painted black. There was no sign over the front door, but there were years of names and sentiments carved into the wood-framed entrance.
A narrow alleyway cut between the store and the row house to its right. Byrne drew his weapon, walked down the alley. There was a barred window halfway down. He listened at the window. Silence. He continued forward, emerging into a small courtyard at the back, a courtyard bounded on the three sides by a high wooden fence.
The back door was not covered in plywood, nor padlocked from the outside. There was a rusted dead bolt. Byrne pushed on the door. Locked tight.
Byrne knew he had to focus. Many times in his career, someone's life had hung in the balance, someone's very existence riding on his judgment. Each and every time he had felt the enormity of the responsibility, the weight of his duty.
But it was never like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. In fact, he was surprised that Ike Buchanan hadn't called him in. If he had, though, Byrne would have thrown his badge on the desk and gotten right back out on the street.
Byrne took off his tie, undid the top button of his shirt. The heat in the confines of the courtyard was stifling. Sweat laced his neck and shoulders.
He bulled open the door with his shoulder, entered, weapon held high. Colleen was close. He knew it. Felt it. He pitched his head to the sounds of the old building. Water clanging through rusted pipes. The creak of long-dried joists.
He stepped into the small entrance room. Ahead was a door, closed. To the right was a wall of dusty shelves.
He touched the door and the images slammed into his mind…
… Colleen against the wall… the man in the red monk's robe… help, Dad, oh help hurry, Dad, helpShe was here. In this building. He had found her.
Byrne knew he should call for backup, but he did not know what he would do when he found the Actor. If the Actor was in one of these rooms, and he had to draw down on him, he would pull the trigger. No hesitation. If it was not a clean shoot, he didn't want to put his fellow detectives on the line. He would not draw Jessica into this. He would handle this alone.
He pulled the earpiece from his ear, turned off the phone, and stepped through the door.