Page 20 of Caught
The sentence snapped Omar out of his trance. “We need to search the area. Come on.”
Omar took off running, and Ryan followed. The manicured park was light on trees or dense brush that might provide cover for a shooter. But Ryan scanned his surroundings in both directions, looking for anything that might be out of place. He saw nothing. Then again, he didn’t know what he was looking for. All he knew was that he’d now seen two gunshot victims in less than twenty-four hours and hoped never to see another one.
Omar couched near the edge of the paved path.
“Did you find something?”
“Just a gum wrapper.” He pointed to the silver scrap. “It could’ve been here for days. No telling.” But he removed a tissue from his pocket and plucked it from the ground. “Just in case.”
They returned to the section of the path where Slidell had fallen. Trent met them several feet ahead of the spot where Slidell lay.
“How’s he doing?” Ryan asked.
Trent shook his head wordlessly.
“He didn’t make it?”
“No. Emergency services are on their way, and I called the Pentagon, too. But we need to roll out.”
“We’re witnesses,” Ryan protested. “We need to stay and give a statement.”
“What did we witness?” Trent countered. “We found a man who’d been shot. We didn’t see or hear anything.”
“He was here to meet with us,” Ryan argued.
“Unofficially,” Omar told him. “Off the books.”
Ryan looked from Trent to Omar and let his gaze rest on his best friend’s face. “You’ve got to be kidding. We can’t just leave.”
Jake joined their tight cluster and weighed in. “We have to.”
Ryan sputtered, “Jake—”
“You’re a person of interest in Grover Anderson’s murder, which, you may have noticed, has a strikingly similar MO. Single gunshot to the head.”
“That’s preposterous.”
“No, it’s a setup,” Omar said grimly.
“Or a warning,” Trent added, ever helpful.
“Whatever it is,” Jake said in a firm voice, “the proper response is not to sit here and wait to be interviewed or arrested. We don’t have time to waste answering questions. We’re leaving. Now.”
Ryan brushed past Jake and stalked up the hill to Slidell’s corpse. Behind him, he heard Omar say to Jake, “Give him a minute.”
He stooped next to Slidell and stared at his gray face for a long moment, searing it into his memory. Then he stood and walked back down the hill.
“Did he say anything before he died?”
“No.” Jake shook his head. “Can we get out of here now?”
Ryan noted the blood, Slidell’s blood, on Jake’s sleeve and the tightness around Jake’s eyes. He reminded himself that his friends weren’t movie superheroes, but men. They were men who’d seen and done things that most people never had and never would; but in the end, they were still men.
He clapped Jake on the shoulder. “Sure. Let’s go.”
The distant wail of a siren filled the air as they hurried to Omar’s SUV.
9
