by Sharon Dunn
“I know. I have to keep reminding myself,” Darcy said. His touch, though brief, had made her heart beat faster for a whole different reason. “I was scared for you and Smokey. I heard the gunshots and I thought maybe one of you had been hit. When I saw you were okay, I just wasn’t thinking for a moment.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. Being in danger is just the nature of my work, Darcy. Good thing you don’t date cops.”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “Even as a friend, I was worried for you.” Her hand brushed his sleeve.
“I appreciate that.” He looked down at her and, for a moment, a charge of electricity seemed to pass between them. The thought zinged through her mind that if Jackson wasn’t a police officer, she could so fall for him.
She took a step back. “So that woman must have been shooting from across the street and then snuck over her to try to get at me.”
“It looks that way,” Jackson said. “Another lab is going to have to come in and process all this. I’d say you and Harlan are done working for the day.”
Darcy clenched her jaw. More delays in getting her work done. “You can at least bring me that dog food sample, and I will catalog it. Hopefully processing this scene won’t take long and I can get back to work.”
After commanding Smokey to stay, Jackson swung the door open and disappeared outside. Darcy stepped out of view as the door eased shut. She could see the holes in the metal doors where the bullets had gone through. Though the chances of the shooter coming back were slim, she knew she needed to make a habit of being hypervigilant. She kneeled down to pet Smokey. The dog licked her face as if to comfort her. He must have picked up on her agitation. She was still stirred up from having been shot at through the locked door.
Jackson knocked on the outside door. She rose and pushed it open, careful not to stand in the open doorway. He handed her the dog food sample. “When you do get a chance to process it, you can phone headquarters to let Noelle and Gavin know.”
“We’re so backed up,” Darcy said. “I wish I could get my work done.”
The evidence for the Emery case had been put on the back burner for now. Thankfully, it hadn’t been destroyed in the previous attack. Once she isolated the DNA, Darcy; hoped she would at least be able to rule out one suspect. Randall Gage, who was still at large, was a DNA match for the double homicide twenty years ago that was so close to home for the K-9 Unit. Gage had murdered Eddie and Anna McGregor, the parents of Bradley and Penelope McGregor. Either Randall had committed the Emery murder, too, or they were looking at a copycat. She knew the unit was thinking copycat, which meant there was another killer out there—and this time, they didn’t know his identity.
“You and Harlan should probably go home. I can drive you. I’ll talk to Gavin to see if we can have a patrol car put outside your place.”
The last thing she wanted to do was to sit at home like some kind of a prisoner. “Look, I did have time to put together a list of potential females who might have a grudge against me. Can you go with me to question them?” At least that way she would be doing something to end this nightmare.
“Sure,” he said. “If I can clear it with Gavin.”
Once they had access to the lab again, the next thing on her list to process was the gun found close to where Griffin Martel had been killed. Maybe she could at least make some headway on that case.
NINE
By the time Jackson had gotten the okay from Gavin to start working through Darcy’s list of suspects, the parking lot and the lab were swarming with law enforcement and forensic staff from the Manhattan unit.
Darcy and Jackson waited in the hallway while the techs moved in and out, processing both the outside door and the door that led to the lab. They had also gone across the street to see if they could find where the shooter had lain in wait.
Harlan had already left.
It was unlikely that the woman would come back, but Jackson knew he had to heed his own advice and exercise caution at all times. He looked at Darcy. “You ready to go?” He’d snagged an extra bulletproof vest for her given they were going to be out in the open questioning suspects. He and Smokey already had theirs on.
She nodded and they stepped outside.
Jackson took up a position on one side of Darcy and Smokey walked on the other as they approached his vehicle. He did a visual of the area and across the street once Darcy was safely inside the SUV.
Jackson loaded Smokey back up and got in behind the wheel. “Who’s our first suspect?”
“A woman named Lydia Harmon. My work helped put her brother away for robbery. She claimed her brother was innocent. She sent several threatening emails after the trial. She’s ex-military. I know that this woman who is after me hires goons, but she’s the one doing the shooting at me and now at you. Lydia probably has some marksman skills because of her background.”
“Sounds like a smart place to start,” Jackson said. “Are you hungry? We can grab a quick bite somewhere first.”
“Starved,” she said.
“The safest place would be where cops hang out. I know a good diner near a police precinct nearby. They have a little of everything. And always a lot of cops at the counter and tables.”
“Sounds good to me,” Darcy said.
“We can get it to go, so we’re not inside long.”
Jackson drove through downtown Brooklyn. He waited for a spot by the diner to open up and pulled in. They got out of the SUV together.
The noise of people chatting and eating greeted them when Jackson opened the door. The air smelled of grease and salt.
Jackson pointed up at a whiteboard. “Any of the specials look good to you? They bring those out real fast.”
They took seats at the counter. Though this was probably the safest place for him to take Darcy if she had to be out in the open, Jackson’s nerves were still on edge.
“The fried chicken special sounds great to me,” she said.
“Same here. You can put in the order. I’m going to watch the room.” He swung around on his stool.
Fear flashed through her eyes and then she turned to get the waiter’s attention. Jackson studied the people at the tables, giving a nod toward the officers he recognized from working across Brooklyn. He was aware that even the off-duty officers were probably armed. He felt himself relax a little. Only a fool would try something in a place that was so packed with cops.
Once they had their food, they walked back to the SUV and got inside, the delicious smell of their takeout making his stomach growl.
Darcy opened her to-go box and took a bite of her chicken. “This is really good.”
He smiled. “Another fine dining experience brought to you by Jackson and Smokey.”
“No. I mean it, this is really tasty,” she said.
He found himself wishing that he could take her out to a nice restaurant. What a difference from a few days ago when he’d taken her to the pizza joint so she wouldn’t think they were on a date. As much as he had dug his heels in, he had to admit his heart was opening up to the possibility of something more than friendship with her. Too bad she didn’t date cops.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Darcy munched on a French fry.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Just thinking.” He had no idea if her feelings had shifted. He kind of doubted it. A woman who draws a line in the sand about not dating cops probably wouldn’t change her mind.
“Darcy, that rule that you have about not dating cops, is there a reason behind it?”
Darcy took a nibble on her French fry and chewed for a moment. “If I let the personal get mixed up with the professional, it can cause trouble for cases. In my job, integrity is everything, and it can be the difference between a guilty man going to jail or walking.” An intensity he hadn’t heard from her before colored her words. “I just figured if I couldn’t sepa
rate my romantic feelings for someone from my work, the safest thing to do was to not ever let the personal and professional get tangled together.”
That settled that. He sat staring out of the window for a moment, not sure what to say. “I get it.” He turned the key in the ignition. “Where are we going to talk to Lydia Harmon?”
Darcy crushed the cardboard container her meal had been in. “She’s works security at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. She’s on duty now. I got the information from her roommate by pretending to be an old friend. She doesn’t know we’re going to interview her. I think the element of surprise comes in handy when you’re trying to get the truth out of someone.”
“You managed to do that?” He continued to be impressed at how smart and clever Darcy was. “You may have missed your calling as a detective.”
She smiled. “No, my calling is as a forensics expert. I’m sure of it. But thanks for the compliment.”
He shifted into Reverse. “Let’s go check it out.”
As they drew closer to the Brooklyn Navy Yard, they had a view of lower Manhattan across the water. Though the over two hundred acres of buildings, cranes and dry docks was still called the “Navy Yard,” it hadn’t been used for building and repairing ships for years. It had been turned into an industrial park. A museum, businesses and eateries now occupied the multiple buildings on the site.
Darcy checked her phone again. “The security office is in Building 77, first floor. If Lydia’s not there, they will know where to find her.”
Jackson wondered if it would be best for Darcy to stay in the SUV with Smokey with the doors locked.
His thoughts must have been evident in his expression. “I’m going with you,” she said. “The last time I stayed in a locked car, it didn’t make a bit of difference in keeping me safe.”
Jackson opened his mouth to protest.
“If we have learned anything, it’s that I’m in danger no matter what,” she said. “Besides, I’m the one with the detective skills, remember.”
Jackson shook his head and chuckled. “Okay. Stay close to Smokey and me.”
As they walked up Flushing Avenue toward Vanderbilt, Jackson went on high alert. He paid attention to the people around him, but the thing that concerned him the most were the location possibilities that someone might take up a position to fire a rifle. There was no way the suspect could know ahead of time that Jackson and Darcy were going here, but they might have been followed.
He had to assume that they were still on the attacker’s radar. History had proven that anytime he let his guard down, bad things happened. Though it would take a moment for someone with a rifle to get into position, there were numerous possibilities in the multistoried buildings around them, some of which were only partially occupied. If the female attacker had a goon helping her out, there was no telling what could happen.
Once they were inside Building 77, Jackson relaxed a little. They were most vulnerable out on the street. A placard inside the lobby showed that there were plenty of businesses inside the building. They walked across the lobby to the security office. The woman behind the desk informed them that Lydia was probably at the museum.
A knot of tension formed at the back of Jackson’s neck. That meant going back outside on the street. Once they were outside, Jackson stayed close to Darcy while Darcy held Smokey’s leash so he could walk on the other side of her.
“Pay attention to Smokey,” Jackson advised. “He’s a good barometer for threats and danger. His hackles will go up, or he’ll stutter or stop in his step. He might lift his nose.”
He allowed Darcy and Smokey to enter the museum first so he could give the street one final survey. People bustled by without glancing in his direction.
The entrance to the museum had a huge metal anchor the size of a whale. A docent stood by it, explaining to a small cluster of people how much it weighed.
Darcy pointed across the room. “There, I just saw a woman in uniform disappear around that corner. That’s probably Lydia.”
They hurried across the crowded floor, pressing through a group of people. Darcy glanced over her shoulder and then Smokey stopped.
Jackson pressed closer to her, touching her arm just above the elbow. “What?”
She shook her head. “Just a feeling.”
Whatever had caused Darcy to slow down had also set off an alarm bell for Smokey.
The woman in uniform returned to the open area.
“That’s Lydia Harmon,” Darcy said.
The security guard made eye contact with them and stepped in their direction.
Smoky jerked on the leash and faced the entrance to the building. He emitted a sharp, intense bark. Darcy whirled around, as well.
Her voice slipped into monotone and grew as cold as ice. “It’s her. She’s here.”
Jackson stared at the crowd, not seeing anyone that resembled the woman he only gotten a glimpse of at the lab. “Are you sure?”
Lydia Harmon had stepped close enough to talk to them. “You look like you need something. Can I help you folks?”
The crowd cleared. A woman dressed in running clothes, a jacket and a baseball hat, locked in to Jackson’s gaze for less than a second before whirling around and leaving the museum. She wasn’t running, but she was walking at a brisk pace so as not to call attention to herself.
It was the expression—that intense look of fear on her face—that tipped Jackson off. That had to be her. Jackson sprinted across the museum floor.
He hurried outside, scanning the sidewalk filled with people, not seeing the woman. The baseball hat had been an indistinct color.
The crowds cleared on part of the sidewalk. He saw a pale baseball hat tossed on the path that led to the shipyard. She’d been smart enough to toss the one thing that might allow him to pick her out of a crowd. But dumb enough to leave something behind that a forensic scientist could test for DNA to ID her. He wished he had Smokey with him; even though the K-9 was trained to find human remains, not track suspects on the run, Smokey had helped with the watcher in the park.
After pulling the evidence bag from the cargo pocket of his uniform, Jackson bagged the hat, scanned the faces on the street, and kept walking at a brisk pace. Most likely the suspect would try to blend in with the rest of the crowd.
He keyed his radio and requested backup while he sped up his pace. He gave a description of the woman to Dispatch. “We need to cover as many streets as possible. I don’t want her getting away.”
“Ten-Four,” said the dispatcher. “Looks like three units are in the area. We can’t cover all the streets leading into the Navy Yard, but they can run a patrol for several blocks each. They should be in place in less than ten minutes.”
Ten minutes was a long time where a search was concerned. And if she had parked close by, she would be able to get to her car and escape.
Still watching the sidewalks filled with people, he backtracked to get his K-9, noting that Darcy and Smokey had emerged from the museum. Smokey might be able to pick up on a scent while they waited for the tracking dogs to arrive.
Before he could get back to Darcy, Smokey jerked on the leash and took off running along the street, dragging Darcy with him. The dog had noticed or smelled something.
Jackson sprinted to catch up with them. He couldn’t leave Darcy exposed. There was a chance the woman would turn on her and take her.
Or worse, if she was armed with a handgun, she might be able to shoot Darcy and disappear into the crowd.
* * *
Darcy ran hard to keep up with Smokey. The K-9 must have seen or smelled something. He seemed intent on crossing the street. She trusted the dog’s training over anything her senses might tell her. The woman at the entrance to the museum had acted very suspiciously. Though Darcy had never gotten a clear look at the woman’s face, there was something about the way she’d moved that was distin
ct. She ran like an athlete.
Darcy picked up her pace. Off to the side, she saw Jackson coming toward her.
He caught up with her just as Smokey stopped outside a shop that sold imported home goods. The dog paced back and forth.
“Do you think she went in there?”
“It’s worth a shot.” Jackson reached for Smokey’s leash.
They stepped inside. The place was more like a warehouse than a shop, with its high ceilings, and shelving and displays that were almost as high.
“There is no safe place for you right now,” Jackson said, “so just stay close to me and Smokey.”
“Two sets of eyes are better than one,” she said.
“Actually, we have three sets of eyes and one good nose.”
They worked their way up one aisle and down another. The final aisle was much more crowded. Darcy pressed close to Jackson as they squeezed through the shoppers. A woman bumped shoulders with Darcy, setting off her personal alarm bells.
“Oh, sorry,” she said.
Darcy looked at the woman. Not their suspect. “No problem.”
Smokey jerked on the leash, indicating the entrance to the shop. “Let’s get back outside,” Jackson said.
As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Jackson’s radio blared. Something about units being in place.
A popping sound reverberated in Darcy’s ear, followed quickly by another gunshot. Jackson pushed her to the wall, dropping Smokey’s leash. The dog paced and barked but remained close.
The crowd dispersed, running in all directions.
Jackson pressed his face very close to Darcy’s. “She’s shooting at us from the second floor. Probably with a handgun. She didn’t have a rifle with her, and no way could she have had time to stash it. She must have followed us here. But how could she have made it across the street and upstairs to shoot at us as we were leaving? That makes no sense.” He shook his head. “Get back in the shop. You’ll be safe where there are lots of people. Take Smokey, just to be sure.”
