Page 67 of The Drowned Woman
“It’s not that. His guys work plainclothes all the time.”
“Then tell me how to make him listen. Maggie discovered something that might be important.”
“Something they need to ask Risa about?”
“No.” He sensed her frustration even over the static-filled connection. “Maggie doesn’t think the video was livestreamed. She says Vogel might have been killed hours before it was sent to Risa.”
“What does Sanchez say? And has Ford Tierney given us an official window for time of death?”
“I have Sanchez working on it and we haven’t heard anything from the ME yet.”
“It might be days before we do.” Luka thought about it. Other than giving the killer a head start, the time of death didn’t have an immediate impact on which leads to follow next. Better for McKinley to finish learning everything he could from Risa and then add that knowledge to Harper’s new theory about the timestamp being misleading. “I’d wait until the interview is finished before you share all this with McKinley. He’s never worked the investigative side before now. Maybe feed things to him in bite-sized chunks.”
“Like you did for me on my first case. Yeah, I can do that.”
“Did he let Leah take the lead on the interview?”
“Yeah. He’s actually playing it smart, sitting in the back corner, listening, not interrupting, letting her and Risa find their own pace. Slow going, but we’re almost done.”
“Krichek will call you if anything happens. Ahearn is calling in the staties and feds for help, forming a taskforce.”
“Which means I’ll be off the case? They won’t need two of us and Krichek is a detective, has seniority.” Her yearning for a chance to prove herself worthy of promotion to detective wasn’t subtle.
“We’ll see. Either way, good work. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, boss.”
Luka had just reached Route 11 when another call came through, this time from an unknown number. “Detective Sergeant Jericho.”
“Luka, it’s Emily. Miss Emily Wright,” she repeated as if multiple young girls with chirpy-birdlike voices had his number. But he realized that she was whispering, her words coming sharp and fast. “You need to come quick, before they hurt Nate.”
“Slow down, Emily. Where are you?”
“Billy and Jimmy Homan’s farm.”
The Homan place was only a few miles away. Luka gunned the engine. “What happened?”
“Hurry. They’re going to shoot him. Luka, I’m scared.”
He sped past the entrance to Jericho Fields. The Homans were just another two miles down the road. “I’m almost there. Get somewhere safe.”
“I can’t leave Nate—”
The fury rose in his voice. “Hide, Emily!”
Then came the sound of a gunshot and Emily screaming.
Forty-One
Luka put Emily on hold only long enough to call in for backup, then returned to her call. From her rapid breathing, it sounded like she was running, and he hoped she found a place to hide. He spun onto the Homans’ dirt road, now slick with mud and puddles. Past the barns there was a crowd lined up around a small fenced-in dog run. At the house across from the kennel three women stood on the porch along with an assortment of young children. No weapons visible, allowing him to turn his attention to the two boys holding paintball rifles while next to them one of the adult women held a shotgun and two of the adult males had semi-automatic pistols.
All aimed at Nate, sitting in the mud, shielding a dog with his body. Nate glared at the men, fearlessly.
Luka blasted his siren to draw their attention away from Nate. In addition to the visible weapons, Luka was sure that there would be more in the house and other buildings. He was outnumbered at least eight to one, not counting the unarmed children. Regulations said he should wait for backup.
To hell with the rules. That was his boy. Even if Nate hadn’t been family, the sight of grown men and women terrorizing a young child who was trying to help a poor animal—Luka had never truly felt his blood boil before, he was usually the one remaining calm, uninvolved, but now he finally knew what that level of rage and fury felt like.
He left his car, hand resting on his weapon, and slowly approached the crowd. The woman and one of the men swung their weapons to cover him while the other man kept his gun on Nate—as if an eight-year-old unarmed boy was a threat.
