Page 68 of Charmed Forces
“Thank you.”
When the phone rang again a few minutes later, I wasn’t surprised to see it was Lucas.
“You found the footage?” I asked hopefully. “Or do you want me to get you some food?”
“Neither. Turn on the local news.”
I froze. “What happened?” I asked, waving to Solomon to get his attention. He immediately got up from his desk chair and walked through to the office. “Lucas told me to put on the local news,” I told him. Solomon turned, grabbed his laptop and hit some keys, then turned the laptop so we could see the live broadcast.
The reporter stared directly into the camera, saying, “I’m standing downtown where firefighters are responding to a blaze at a newly opened café. Locals reported hearing what sounded like an explosion...”
“That’s The Daily Roast!” I said, jumping out of my chair and pointing. It was almost impossible to make out the coffee shop since the sign we’d only just seen hung had already started to melt. On the screen, firefighters trained hoses, rushing long torrents of water into the building. “Lucas, please tell me you got some security video,” I said, a large lump growing in my throat.
“Not a thing. It doesn’t look like it was linked to the internet. There’re no other security cameras on this block.”
“Someone must have known that. That’s why they chose to buy the coffee from there. They knew no one would ever find out,” I said as much to Lucas as Solomon who was watching the coffee shop burn. “Damn!”
“Or they were simply unlucky,” said Solomon.
I was quiet for a moment. “An explosion after I went there seems awfully unlucky,” I said. “The corner where the reporter is standing is where Lily and I ran into Captain Brandt and Detective Crump. He could have seen us go in there.”
“Are you suggesting Brandt and Crump are responsible for this explosion?” asked Solomon.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I shrugged, uncertain. “I’d sure like to know where they were when it happened.”
“Ask Jord if he has any intel,” suggested Solomon and I shot off a message. Minutes later, Jord replied that Brandt was out on a call and Crump was apparently surveilling a suspect. I didn’t tell him the suspect was probably me.
“We should head home. Let your tail follow us,” said Solomon.
We hadn’t even left the agency when the next piece of bad news hit.
Garrett told us the news over the phone. “Daniel’s gun was found in a dumpster two blocks from Sun Street, behind a 7-11. No cameras in that alley, coincidentally.”
“It’s definitely his?” I asked.
“The serial numbers match. It’s been rushed for testing. I hear the clip isn’t full.”
“That doesn’t mean the bullets match those found in the deceased,” I said, hoping that Daniel only discharged his weapon at the assailant.
“We’ll know soon enough.”
“Alice said there are reporters outside her house.”
“Dammit! I’ll swing by there.”
“No need. She packed up the kids and left. She’s staying with her parents. She left via the garage at the back so the reporters didn’t see her go or follow her.”
“Smart thinking. You know what isn’t smart thinking? Dumping a gun in a dumpster only a couple blocks from the crime scene! Daniel’s worked enough crimes to know that’s not the right thing to do. He’d know a grid search would be enacted.”
“Obviously, we don’t thinkDanieldid that,” I said.
Solomon found the 7-11 on hisMapsapp and pointed to it, then to Sun Street, then to our house. The two locations were in opposite directions.
“No, of course not. I think it was planted. I expect there won’t be any fingerprints on it except Daniel’s,” said Garrett,
“What about the person who grabbed it? If there’re no fingerprints at all, it’ll prove it’s been wiped down,” I said.
“Which would be weird, but not much of a defense for Daniel. They’ll just say he did it to disguise his own guilt and point the blame elsewhere.”