Page 100 of Fire and Bones

Doyle regarded me with flapjack eyes.

“What?” I prompted.

“My CI caught a call on his scanner about a drive-by this morning. A fifty-six-year-old Caucasian male gunned down outside a home on a residential street.”

“Dead?”

“As a bug on a windscreen.”

“Where?”

“Chevy Chase.”

“That’s in Maryland?”

“Yes and no. Chevy Chase is also the name of a neighborhood in Northwest DC, just below the Maryland state line. That’s where the shooting happened.”

“Did your informant get a name?”

“He’s working on it. But he did have info on the location.” Teasing the suspense.

Not in the mood for drama, I circled a wrist, urging her to spit it out.

“The property is owned by one Lloyd Warring.”

That took a moment to compute.

“You’re thinking the vic could be related to the Foggy Bottom Gang Warrings? The probable founders of W-C Commerce?”

Doyle’s brows, shoulders, and palms rose as one.

“And that this hit could be linked to the Foggy Bottom fires?”

“Seems an odd coincidence.”

“We’re seeing a lot of those lately.”

“Indeed.”

“Warring is a fairly common surname,” I said.

“Not that common.”

“What else did your informant say?”

“That Warring has pull and his ‘people’?”—hooking air quotes—“are pressing to keep the attack out of the news.”

“Who’ll handle the investigation?”

“MPD. Maybe the Cathedral Heights station on Idaho Avenue. Which would be awesome.”

“I’m thick. Explain the importance of that.”

“I have an inside source there.”

Of course, you do, I thought. I wondered, was this murder really linked to the fires? Or was the journalist in Doyle looking for a story where none existed?

For a long moment, Doyle sat staring up the street. Maybe at the dead insects splattered across the passenger-side glass.