Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #2: Books 5-8 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (types of ebook readers txt) 📕

The female police officer had given up on her attempts to console her, and now just stood by her side. As we approached, Dehan asked the cop, “Has she made a statement?”

The officer shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Detective.”

Dehan nodded. “OK, we’ve got this.”

She hunkered down in front of Angela and I rested my ass on the wrought iron railing. Angela looked away. Her face was wet with tears and her bottom lip was trembling. Dehan said, “Hey Angela, you remember me?”

She looked at her sidelong for a moment, then shook her head.

Dehan smiled. “My Mom was Marta. She was a real close friend of your mom’s.”

“Marta…?”

“Yeah” she pointed up toward Garrison Avenue. “We lived up on the corner of Garrison and Faile. We had the café. You remember? My mom was always over here, having coffee with Rosario.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Did you make the call?”

Angela nodded.

“OK, let’s get you dressed and take you down to the station. C’mon, I’ll give you a hand.”

She led her inside and a light came on in the window. I sat a moment, looking at the door. About two feet from the bottom there were what looked like two bullet holes. I logged the fact for later consideration, stood, and looked down at the scene in the street. I wondered where the gunman had come from. I caught Solano’s eye and called him up.

He was talking as he climbed the steps. “We got two 911 calls within less than a minute of each other. We were already on the way when the second call came through, reporting shots fired. From what we can make out, the victims arrived, the shooter must have been waiting, approached the car and fired through the window. Five of the seven shots hit the driver, two hit the passenger. He got out and tried to make it to the house, but collapsed on the stairs. Then the shooter must have taken off, because we got here very shortly afterwards.”

“What do the neighbors say?”

He sighed and looked apologetic. “So far a few people heard shots—between five and seven—but nobody saw nothing.” He shrugged. “This kind of neighborhood…”

“I know, Sergeant, there is not a lot of trust. Between five and seven, huh? OK, you called Crime Scene?”

“They’re on their way.”

He left and I went and pushed open the door. It gave onto a hallway with a broad, wooden staircase rising along the right wall and a passage on the left that gave on to a front room, a back room, and a kitchen. I walked back down the steps to the sidewalk. I counted nine of them. Then I turned and faced the door, holding out my arm like I was shooting. The angle was wrong, so I lay down on the road. A couple of the uniforms looked at me and smiled. I ignored them and held out my arm again, like I was shooting from a prone position. After that, I got to my feet again and climbed back to the hall. There I got on my knees and inspected the wall. After a moment I found what I was looking for, a bullet hole. But I only found one.

Outside, the crime scene team had arrived and I walked down to meet them. Joe, the team leader, was suiting up at the back of their van.

“Stone. I thought you only did cold cases these days.”

“Yeah, so did I. Listen, looks like the crime scene is out here, but do me a favor, will you? Have a look at the door. There are two bullet holes at about two feet. Inside, slightly to the left, there is one bullet hole in the wall. To me, none of it looks fresh. I’d like to know how old they are and what caliber we’re looking at.”

He nodded. “Sure, no problem. Say…” He smiled. “How’s things with your partner? Still teamed up with Detective Dehan?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, why?”

He grinned. “Just making polite conversation, John. I’ll catch you later.”

I watched him walk away toward the car, followed by the three members of his team, all in white plastic suits, like B movie aliens. He gestured with his hand and said something, and one of them climbed the stairs as Dehan and Angela came out the old, peeling green door.

They joined me and Dehan asked, “We done here?”

I looked up and down the road, still trying to work out where the shooter came from. There were plenty of spaces where a car could have parked. I walked away, so I was standing in front of the Toyota, about five yards distant. The streetlamps made an amber glow on the windshield. There was a look of desolation about it.

“Solano!”

He turned to look at me.

I pointed at the car. “Was the engine running?”

“No, Detective. It was just like that when we arrived.”

I walked to the nearest space behind the car. Then I looked across at the other side of the road, where a steel fence blocked off a stretch of overgrown garden. Every parking space on that side was occupied. I stared at Dehan. She was watching me, with her right hand on Angela’s arm. I said, “OK, let’s go.”

Back at the station, we put Angela in interrogation room three and went to get some coffee. At the machine, I leaned against the wall while Dehan filled the polystyrene cups.

“Did you notice the holes in the door?”

She glanced at me. “No,”

“Joe’s having a look at them for me. They’re low down, about mid-shin. Two of them. Aside from that, any initial thoughts?”

She frowned and leaned against the wall opposite me. “Yeah. The shooter knew his victims, knew their car, it was kind of an execution, but he was real mad, too.”