A knock on the glass doors caught her attention. Two men were waiting for her, both plainclothes. She buzzed them through after she saw their badges.
“So you’re Amy Dobson?” the taller one said as the doors clicked into place behind him.
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Scarpelli, and this is Mears, our sketch artist. Can we ask you a couple of questions?”
“Sure.”
“Our photographer is around here somewhere, but he’s a little busy.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Well, we’re trying to put all that together. Unfortunately, we got one dead and several injured. Beyond what you hear in the news, I can’t really give you anything, sorry.”
“I know.”
“So tell me what you saw?”
“He was a light chocolate brown-skinned man with curly hair, not real long, but curly.”
“Approximately when was this?”
“Right after the sirens and things started zooming by—like within a minute after I heard the first one.”
“About three-ten, then?”
“Something like that. I wasn’t looking at my watch. Maybe the security guards would have a time.”
“Okay, so his hair, you said it was curly?”
“Yes. Black.”
“Like an Afro?”
“No, long and wavy. Maybe four inches long, just coming out all over the place. Like Garfunkle?”
“The singer?”
“Sorry, yeah. My mom always—”
“Hey, I got ’em in my family too. Hippies.”
“Well, she wasn’t a hippie, she just liked folk music. Anyway. Coming out like that.” She gestured holding her palms all around her head.
The sketch artist began to draw. “Shape of the face?”
“Long. Thin nose, tapered. Big round brown or blackish brown eyes. His lips looked kind of purple? I know it doesn’t make sense, so maybe it was the light?” she squinted.
Behind them there was tapping on the glass.
She saw a photographer taking pictures of the handles and the lobby through the glass. Another had roped off a triangle with yellow tape, keeping people away from the door.
“You wanna let him in?”
Amy buzzed the photographer and two other officers inside. They began taking pictures of the sandwich sign. Someone outside was investigating the outside glass door.
The sketch artist drew up a shape, hair, eyes. “Like this?” he said as he held up his tablet.
“Yes. Except deep, like dark colored marks under his eyes, like this,” she showed them where her under eyes were puffy and red. “Darker brown, a little purple.”
“Would you say he looked African, like East African, or African-American?”
“He didn’t look African-American. He looked like he was from Somalia or Ethiopia. And he was thin. Very skinny. Like he wasn’t from here, you know?”
After a few more questions and getting the names of the security guards, the two detectives left. Before the crime scene guys left, they took pictures of the entire space, including the hallway to the upper floor elevators outside the back door.
“We’ll probably have someone posted here overnight. You have another one of these?” he said as he lifted the sign.
“Yes.”
“Okay, good. Someone will be over to clean up and take down the tape. You going to be open tomorrow?”
“I—I wasn’t sure I should.”
“Up to you. Anything suspicious, you let me know, okay?”
“Sure.”
“You got their cards too?” he said thumbing over his shoulder, indicating the two detectives who had questioned her.
“Yes.”
“You call if you find anything, anything at all, okay? No matter how small.”
“You—you think I should open this office tomorrow? I mean, was this a terrorist attack or what?”
“That’s the thing. We don’t know. All this is under investigation. More than likely it was a couple of lone wolves, just doing their thing.”
Amy wasn’t sure she was hearing this correctly. Doing their thing? Someone had been murdered. How could the world just go on its way? She must have been staring with her mouth open because the officer touched her on the shoulder, smiling.
“Look, the crime scene isn’t here, so you’re probably safe. You weren’t the target, so why would anyone want to come back here? They were looking for big targets, crowds, in all likelihood.”
“Except that he knows I saw him.”
“He probably won’t even remember where he ran. He was probably scared out of his mind. I mean, you think this building would be a target? With all this security?”
She recalled the conversation she’d had with her dad about it. Easier targets. Now those arguments seemed hollow.
“If it makes you feel any better, some of the shops in the Plaza are going to be open. Yes, it was a murder. But that doesn’t stop life from going on. People have jobs, go to work, you know.”
As the door buzzed shut behind him and he slipped under the tape outside, carting the sandwich sign wrapped in a large plastic tarp, she wondered why she hadn’t heard from the building owner and developer. Or from security. No one at the complex seemed to be concerned about what had just happened to her.
She was glad her father was on his way.
Chapter 9
Zak and Carter were shooting darts at the Scupper. Several of the other guys joined in. They’d just gotten their orders to report to SEAL Team 3 and were given four days leave, but most of their group decided to stay around the San Diego area and get more familiar with the surroundings. Zak knew some of the guys from Team 3 hung out there regularly.
Fredo and Coop sauntered into the bar. They were most distinguishable by the fact that Coop looked nearly twice the size of Fredo. But the two were the best of friends, as they had been over the past nearly seven years together on the teams.
“Ohhh, lookie dis. We got us some tadpoles here, Coop,” Fredo said shuffling over to their table. Zak had his arm extended back, ready to throw his dart, but hesitated. Fredo shook his head. “You get too distracted, my little tadpole. Never take your eye off the target.”
Sure as shit, when Zak returned to focusing on the dartboard, his aim was off and the brass marker hit the wall, way off the target.
“Thought you qualified expert, Jell-O” Fredo grinned. He had a gold tooth for one of his canines.
Zak lowered his shoulders and frowned at Carter, who shrugged back in return. Several others of their group snickered.
“You like Jell-O shots?” Coop asked.
“No, sir. I don’t drink.”
“Smart man,” returned Cooper as he looked down on the other newbies. “Fredo, they’re making them younger and younger, and they’re short now too.”
“Another Smurf crew for sure. Thas okay. Good things come in smaller packages, right there my tadpoles?” Fredo was glad-handing all of them, slapping backs and acknowledging each one of the new guys. Coop followed as Zak hit his second and third dart, the third one right in the center.
“Look at that! A barn dart!” Coop barked. “Thought you was gonna dust them all.”
“Focus. And yes, I qualified Expert,” said Zak softly.
“So how’d you get the tag then, Jell-O Man?”
Zak tried to shrug it off.
“Oh come on, white boy. Tell the man,” Carter shouted. “You guys gonna love this.”
“I can hardly wait.” Fredo came over to Zak and sniffed. “You smell like Chrome, man, that teen after shave. You don’t smell like Jell-O. So what gives?”
Zak could feel his ears getting red. He figured he’d get it over with. “I pulled a prank when I was in high school. We put cherry Jell-O in the other high school’s fountain. It foamed all over the place. Turned the whole quad red.”
No one said anything for a few seconds. Finally Fredo turned to Carter. “That’s it? Carter, what the hell
you talking about?”
“No, my man!” Carter ran to Zak’s side and placed his arm around his shoulder. “He got arrested for doing that prank. Arrested by the father of the girl he was stickin.”
“Oh I get it. Daddy didn’t like you and his little one hanging out, so he sort of threw the book at you?” Coop said.
Zak nodded.
Fredo gave a disgusted look by scrunching up his unibrow. “That’s not funny. Carter, you got some sick sense of humor if you think that’s funny. We got things way better than that and you better be ready, man. That shit,” he said as he pointed to Zak, “That shit is boy scout stuff.”
“I think Carter has the stories you really want to hear. Mine are just, well, probably tame,” answered Zak.
“You can be as tame as you like as long as you got my six, Zak. You don’t have to be outrageous to be a good team guy. You don’t have to drink, don’t have to do half the shit the other guys do. Just keep it clean.”
“Yessir.”
“Alright. So you guys are all invited over to my place tomorrow for a barbeque. You’ll be on good behavior, ’cause our wives will be there. We’ll invite some local girls, friends of the ladies, and such, but you be respectful. We got a few days for you to recover, but nothing stupid, and no fuckin’ pranks at my house. I got two kids,” Cooper boasted.
“You guys can bring your girls, if you want,” said Fredo. “If they’re decent type. No hookers or strippers. We got the ladies and the kids to think about.”
The tadpoles grinned.
Zak’s cell phone chirped. Looking down at the number, he saw it was Amy. His gut turned over as he looked at the monitor a second time.
No question. Amy was reaching out to him, and for some reason, he knew it wasn’t good news.
“Excuse me for a sec.” Zak ran outside and took the call on the patio which was much quieter than the inside of the bar. “Amy? That you?”
“Zak! Oh my God, Zak. I’m so glad I got hold of you.”
“What’s going on?”
“There’s been a shooting.”
Zak plugged his other ear so he could hear. His heart began to race, and his gut felt hollow. “You okay, Amy? Are you hurt in any way?”
“No, Zak, but it’s like a zoo down here.”
“Where did this happen? Where are you?”
“I’m in San Francisco, at my job—”
“Are you safe? Are you in a safe place right now?”
“Yes. Behind locked doors. Already talked to the police.”
“So this happened at work?”
“Well not exactly. A gunman, I guess they’re saying two gunmen, shot some people at the pier close to my office.”
“They catch the guys?”
“No. Well, yes. One was shot, but the other one—”
“So they haven’t captured everyone yet? You’ve got to get out of there, Amy.”
“I know. I’m waiting for my Dad. I probably have to wait for the police again too. But Zak, I saw the gunman who got away!”
“You saw him?”
“Yes, he tried to get in the building where I work, but the doors were locked. But he knows I saw him, Zak. That’s what’s got me so scared. I mean I was lucky he didn’t get in, but I saw his face, saw the look on his face, and he knows I would recognize him. I’m afraid he’ll come back.”
“You have to get out of there.”
“This might sound ridiculous, but the police said I should just hold the open house like I always do on weekends. I mean—”
“That’s stupid, Amy. No. You don’t do that.”
“It’s my job. That’s what I do. This just happened, so I haven’t heard from the building owner yet. I’m sure he’d want to hear all about it and will probably contact me tomorrow. But I just wanted you to know.”
“I’m so sorry, Amy. I didn’t hear anything about this down here.”
“You’re back in San Diego. Not at a training site?”
“No, we just finished one set of trainings and are getting ready to do our workup.”
Zak needed to make a decision and quick. He knew what would happen if he went near Amy. His overarching motivation was to help Amy feel safe, help comfort her, but he didn’t want to take advantage of her fear. It was a thin line he was walking. He knew she was terrified and had nowhere else to turn, except her father, who might not be exactly what she needed right now. He felt obligated to protect her, yet knew he’d promised himself he wouldn’t get entangled.
Damn. She was going to let him make the first move.
“I have a few days, Amy. You want me to come up there? Would that help?”
He heard her relax as she let out air she’d been holding. “Could you do that, Zak? I’d be so grateful.” He was still shaken from the news that Amy had been so close to danger—and she was an innocent, not trained to be part of this type of action. He knew she must be working hard to hold it all together and it worried him.
“Let me see what I can do. Gotta check in with our Team liaison. I’m new to all this. If he says no, then I’ll have to stay here, but I’m willing to check. The Navy owns my ass first. I’ll call you back, tonight if I can.” He wasn’t sure how this would go over with the liaison, but he had to try.
“Thank you, Zak.”
“Are you staying in San Francisco, or going home with your dad?”
“I think I have to stay here for the investigation. I just don’t know. He’ll want to take me home, I know. But I don’t think I can. He should be here any minute.”
“Okay, then. Try to get some sleep. Good that your dad’s coming. I know better than to have you give him my best. Probably better you not tell him, but that’s up to you.”
“Not to worry. I can handle Dad. Just get up here as soon as you can. I miss you.”
That was the part of the conversation that made him stumble. He’d opened the door to something bigger. Was this an honorable thing to do or a mistake? Could he trust himself?
He decided that if the Navy would let him go, he’d be there for Amy. It was the right thing to do. But not if it affected his career.
Chapter 10
Amy hoped Zak would be coming up. She knew it wasn’t a sure thing, but took some solace in the fact that at least she’d talked to him. It settled her nerves just a little. She took a shower, letting the warm water sluice down her body, trying to put the visions of the sirens, the blood, and the killer’s face out of her mind. It wasn’t working.
She put on some comfortable clothes she could fall asleep in and waited for her father’s text.
True to his word, Chief Allister Dobson arrived an hour plus minutes later. As usual, he pulled up to the garage gate. Amy took the elevator down and ran through the abandoned garage to where her father was parked outside the security curtain. She used her key to raise and then lower the gate after her father entered. She directed him to a spot next to her car.
Dobson took firm hold of Amy as she rushed to his arms. She felt the stiffness and tension in his frame. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered to his ear.
He seemed hesitant to let go of her, as she struggled to pull away. “Anything new?” he asked quickly. “I figured you’d call me if there was. I’ve been listening to the reports on the way down.”
“I haven’t had the nerve to watch anything except the initial reports. Waiting for you to come, I guess.”
“Apparently they still haven’t caught the other guy. You say you saw him?” Dobson said as they made their way to the elevators. “Who talked to you?”
Amy shrugged. “I have their cards. You can call them if you want.”
“I’ll do that later.”
The whir of the elevator ended in an abrupt jerk as they reached the tenth floor. Amy jumped nervously and noticed her dad study her, with his eyes narrowed and a furrow between his brow.
“You okay, Amy?”
She started to tear up, grateful she was leading him down the hallway to her door so he wouldn’t see her state
. “I’m holding up. Just not what I’m used to.”
The door closed behind her father. “No one should have to get used to this. This is what we do every day. Just can’t contain all the nuts of the world. I wish it was different, but everywhere has the same problems. No one is really safe anymore. Not really.”
Amy knew that now. She felt like she’d been awakened from a deep sleep. Her world of picnics, parties, hookups and shopping suddenly felt very small and meaningless. “I guess I’ve been living in a bubble, Dad. I just never knew how close I could be to something—”
“Now you know why I was so afraid of you living here in San Francisco. Amy, you’ve got to come home.” Her dad looked disheveled in his dark rain slicker with two layers of shirts underneath, not the usual crisp uniform she was so used to seeing him in. He looked smaller and older than she’d remembered him.
“No, Dad. I have to stay here for now. And do you think things are really safer in Sonoma County? Really? I mean can you honestly say this type of thing wouldn’t happen there too?”
Dobson angled his head. “But there at least I can keep an eye on you.”
“But you protect and serve the whole community. It’s your job. You can’t spend your time 24/7 protecting me.”
“But if you lived at home—”
“Don’t you think I have to start living my own life? I mean when will it ever be safe enough?” She took his hands, drawing him over to the couch. “Sit. Can I make you something?”
“No I’m fine.” Amy left him sitting in the middle of her living room as she got him some icewater. He was searching the room, looking at furniture and pictures, and then focused on the sliding glass door to the outside with views of the San Francisco skyline at night. She handed him the water, taking a seat at an adjacent chair.
“This is home now, Dad.”
He took a sip and shook his head. Searching the walls and then focusing on her face, he answered her. “I don’t see it. You’ve made a nice place here. I can understand why you like it. Exciting to be on your own. I get that. But these are strange times, Amy. I can’t even begin to tell you what we have coming in every day, alerts and information from the FBI. The whole social media thing has gotten way out of hand. We got the military asking all their service members to stay off social media, like we’ve been telling our own guys and gals for more than a decade now.”
SEALed At The Altar_Bone Frog Brotherhood Novel Page 20
