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  Kim held her impatience and her nausea in check. The Toyota was already on the fourth floor when Flint successfully battled the cross winds and set the helicopter down on the parking garage roof.

  Finlay had promised to send backup, but she couldn’t wait for that.

  She checked the GPS one last time. The sedan had parked in the corner farthest from the elevators on level six of the garage. It was four floors down from the roof and on the opposite side of the building from the closest roof exit.

  She released her harness and jumped out of the helo as soon as the rotors slowed then hit the deck running toward the door that led to the interior of the garage. The soles of her boots landed with a loud drumbeat on every footfall.

  She’d reached the door and crossed to the interior elevator banks in the center of the building long before the helo’s blades stopped.

  Kim glanced at the floor indicators above both elevators. The elevator cars were resting on the ground floor at the moment. Which could mean the Toyota’s driver had dashed down the elevator and out of the garage already. But she hoped the driver wasn’t that fast.

  She didn’t wait to see if either elevator car was in use before she opened the stairway door and pounded down the first flight of stairs. She was two flights down before Flint had secured the helo and followed. She heard his footsteps on the stairs above as he descended rapidly.

  On the sixth floor, she left the stairwell and rushed into the parking area. An open expanse, divided by strategically placed wide support columns, spread in all directions from the center elevator bank. Vehicles of all types filled the parking slots. Trucks, SUVs, vans, cars, and even a few motorized scooters. Many of the vehicles were too high, blocking Kim’s line of sight.

  The helo’s trace on the GPS had indicated the Toyota stopped near a corner on the sixth floor. Kim ran as silently as possible toward the location, stopping to wait and watch from behind trucks or concrete pillars.

  Flint had reached the sixth floor, too. He was still behind her but coming up fast.

  When she spotted the Toyota, it was parked into the slot nose first. The engine and the lights were off. Her view of the driver’s position was blocked by the seat and the headrest. The driver could be inside the vehicle. Or not.

  She stopped behind the closest pillar to wait for Flint.

  He sprinted to another nearby pillar and signaled he was in place. They drew weapons and she waved to say she would take point. He nodded agreement.

  Kim crouched low and, using parked vehicles to hide her approach, ran closer to the Toyota. She took one last look toward Flint to be sure he was ready. He made eye contact and nodded.

  The driver had shot and killed a woman from a long distance using a rifle. Best to assume he would not hesitate to shoot again. Stealthily, she approached the sedan while Flint stood ready to provide cover fire if necessary.

  When Kim was ten feet away, she moved to a better angle which allowed her to see into the side window.

  The sedan was quiet. Too quiet. She saw no activity inside or around the car.

  She raised her weapon and advanced.

  When she could see inside the sedan clearly, she was sure. The driver had already abandoned the vehicle.

  She signaled Flint. Together, they approached the sedan and peered inside from all angles.

  Nothing.

  The driver was gone.

  Kim didn’t try to open the doors or the trunk. The sedan might have been booby trapped to explode. But even if it wasn’t, she didn’t want to disturb any trace evidence that might be used against the driver.

  Instead, she turned to scan the immediate parking area. No pedestrians. No cars moving through the garage. She heard no engine noise on the sixth floor and none above or below. The garage was either well insulated or well ventilated. Either way, sounds were suppressed.

  She accepted what she’d seen. The driver was already gone. It was reasonable to guess that the immediate threat was gone, too. Not likely the driver was lying in wait to kill them.

  It would be difficult to shoot a rifle from a distance through a full parking garage and kill a petite human. It could be done. But the chances of success were slim.

  Kim signaled Flint and controlled her rapid breathing, returning to normal.

  Flint walked toward her in the open parking lane and they met in the middle.

  “Where did he go?” Flint asked, looking around from his taller vantage point.

  “All the parking slots around the Toyota are full. Maybe they’re all reserved. This is a condo building and people who own these places probably have assigned parking,” Kim replied. “Which means he either knew this spot would be open or he just got lucky.”

  “That’s a lot of luck for one guy to have today. So probably not,” Flint said. “You’re thinking he lives here? On the sixth floor?”

  “He’s familiar with the garage. But I doubt he lives here.” Kim shrugged. “My guess is that a guy who was sharp enough to shoot and kill a woman with a rifle in that field wouldn’t be so stupid as to drive his own car back to his own home. Would that make any sense to you?”

  “Not when you put it that way…” Flint grinned.

  She pulled out Gaspar’s phone and snapped a photo of the license plate and the VIN number. Both the plates and the sedan were probably stolen, but they had to start somewhere. She shot the front and back of the sedan, too. Then she sent the four photos to Gaspar.

  After that, she repeated the exercise with Finlay’s phone.

  “It’ll take a while to canvas every resident and vehicle in this place. There’s gotta be more than five hundred units here. Everybody probably gets allocated two parking spaces and probably on the same floor where they live,” Flint said, thinking out loud.

  Kim replied, “Backup is on the way. They can check it out. Do the canvas. Get witness statements. He could have friends or family living here. Or maybe he once lived here. Who knows? The locals might find him that way. Eventually.”

  “Meanwhile?” Flint asked, arching both eyebrows.

  The gesture reminded Kim of Gaspar. But he usually only arched one eyebrow at a time. She was glad Flint was here instead. Like Gaspar had said, Flint was both skilled and reliable. Beyond that, he was physically capable of being a solid partner.

  “Let’s head down to the first floor of the garage. I want to see how he gained access to this place.” Kim moved toward the elevator bank and Flint came along.

  He said, “Since we agree he doesn’t live here, what difference does it make? Whatever key card he used to get past the gate will be either a forgery or stolen, just like the car.”

  She punched the elevator call button and waited for the car to rise from the first floor. “So the elevator cars sit at ground level until they’re called. These two haven’t moved since I came in from the roof. Which means the driver didn’t take the elevator down and walk out.”

  “No. But there’s more than one staircase. He might have taken the stairs down and walked out,” Flint said reasonably.

  The elevator car arrived and the doors opened. They stepped inside and the doors slid closed. She punched the button for the first floor. Kim looked around. “There are surveillance cameras in here.”

  “There are also cameras in the parking areas,” Flint said. “Can we get your FBI buddy Ross to chase those down, too? Maybe one of them has a good angle shot of the driver.”

  Kim nodded. “Probably. Or we can get someone else to do it.”

  The elevator stopped at the ground level and opened silently. They stepped out and followed the signs pointing to the exit.

  Flint said, “No manned booth. Just a barrier with a key card access. After hours, it looks like a folding gate will electronically cross the entrance.”

  Kim nodded again. Three cars were backed up at the exit now. The barrier arm was down and didn’t lift when the first driver in line waved his key card over the sensor. He tried three more times before he lost his temper and pounded on t
he pole, shouting for assistance.

  An electronically enhanced voice came through the speaker. “The barrier arm is resetting. Please wait.”

  Two more cars lined up behind the three that were already waiting. After a while, a security guard waddled out from the side door nearby. He fiddled with the sensor and the arm for a couple of minutes but couldn’t make the system work.

  The driver of the first car was yelling about the guard’s incompetence and a couple of the other vehicles honked horns to punctuate his complaints.

  Finally, the security guard pulled out a set of keys, turned a lock of some sort, and raised the barrier manually to release the imprisoned vehicles.

  By the time all the vehicles had been allowed to exit, the guard was already on the phone to a repair service.

  Kim approached him, waiting until he finished his call and there was a lull in the exit traffic. “Mr. Potter?” she said after reading his nameplate while pulling out her badge wallet. She flashed the wallet long enough to let him see her badge and then replaced it before he could ask questions.

  “Yeah,” he replied hesitantly.

  She pointed to a camera in the corner. “That camera aimed at the entrance and exit all the time?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Is it recording all the time?”

  “Yeah. Why?” he asked again.

  “We’re going to need to see the video.”

  “Well, I can’t show it to you right now,” he snapped. “I have to wait here until the repair guy comes or that jerk you saw yelling at me will have me fired.”

  “That’s too bad,” Flint said.

  “Damn straight,” Potter said, belligerently. “This damn thing breaks all the time. If the condo board wasn’t so cheap, they could get it fixed. How is that my fault?”

  “No kidding. Don’t you hate that?” Kim nodded sympathetically. “I’m pretty tech savvy. I can probably figure out the video by myself. How about if I just have a look? You can keep working here. Won’t take me long.”

  “Got a warrant?” he said, sticking his chin out, still ticked off by the unfairness of it all.

  “Not yet. But I can get one. Might be a while. But we can wait here with you until it arrives. You sure I need it?” she replied.

  “What are you looking for? Maybe I can help,” he said, softening a little.

  Flint piped in. “We’re interested in a gray Toyota sedan parked up there on the sixth floor. Drove in here about half an hour ago, give or take.”

  Potter grimaced and frowned. “Yeah. I noticed that car come in because it was splashed with a lot of mud. Hard to get that muddy around here this time of year. Not much rain, you know? Besides, most of the roads are paved, anyway. So I wondered what the hell that pretty young woman had been doing to get her car all muddy like that?”

  Flint raised his eyebrows again and shot a look toward Kim. She cocked her head. The driver of the sedan was a woman. Meaning the shooter was probably that same woman. Not a man after all.

  “Do you know who owns the car?” Kim asked, taking the slim chance that he might have recognized her.

  Potter shook his head. “No. That was the other thing. I don’t think I’ve seen that car or the woman before. Can’t say for sure. We have a lot of cars parked here and I don’t see all of the residents since I don’t work twenty-four-seven. But you get familiar with things after a while, you know?”

  “Yeah. I know.” Kim replied, coaxing him along. “So how about it? Can we see the video or do we need to go get that warrant?”

  Potter looked from one of them to the other and finally glanced at Flint and said, “You stay here and wait for the repair guy. I’ll take her back and show her the video. How’s that?”

  “Perfect,” Kim said, nodding to Flint before he had a chance to object. She followed Potter inside.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Thursday, April 14

  10:55 p.m.

  Albuquerque, New Mexico

  Vigo’s inner circle should have returned to base. None were here. Not even Louis and Manny had returned from Albuquerque.

  Freddie was busy next door sending the rest of the crew off premises and into hiding until Vigo gave the all clear. Right now, he didn’t know how long that would be.

  Maria should have returned to base by now. She had not arrived.

  Of course, Elena was also missing. Big Sela, too. He knew what had happened to both women. But how many others in his crew had been taken out of service today?

  With the FBI nosing around the Last Chance Saloon, it was only a matter of time before the feds rounded up his entire Albuquerque team.

  He could pull people in from other locations to help. But that took time. And he’d need a new base of operations, too.

  Two hours ago, Maria had texted two ambiguous words. “Got her.” Vigo knew she’d meant that she killed the female FBI agent responsible for Big Sela’s death. But he had the sinking feeling that she’d killed the wrong woman.

  If his fears were confirmed, Maria had irrevocably destroyed his team. Hector would never forgive her. He’d never rest until Maria was dead, too. And Vigo wouldn’t allow that to happen. He loved Hector like a brother. But Maria was his actual blood.

  To choose between them was at the same time impossible and inevitable.

  Hector would never live without avenging Elena. Vigo knew this because Hector’s values were the same as his own.

  He needed Hector a while longer. But when his usefulness was done, so was he.

  Vigo had waited to contact Maria until after Hector left to dispose of O’Hare and the crew had abandoned the barracks next door.

  He pulled Maria’s daily burner phone from his pocket and stared at it as if he could will it to vibrate with a message from his sister. Nothing happened.

  Another hour before this phone expired. That was the system. At midnight, they stopped using today’s burners. They switched to a fresh set in the morning.

  The system assumed they’d be together between midnight and dawn. They didn’t have a contingency plan because they’d never needed one before.

  He’d ordered his crew to observe radio silence for solid reasons. The risk of exposure was too great to use the burner again now. But Maria wouldn’t know that. She’d have contacted him if she’d meant to return after midnight. Yet she hadn’t called or texted or returned.

  He’d go out looking for Maria if he had a clue where to look. She’d been following the FBI agent she held responsible for killing Big Sela, which was stupid in the extreme. Had she been discovered? Was she in custody? Worse, had she been killed?

  He heard a knock, two solid raps on the wood to signal he was friend and not foe, before the door opened.

  Vigo glanced up. Freddie. Not Maria.

  “Where the hell are you, little sister?” Vigo murmured, pressing a single character to ask the question and sending the text before he could lose his nerve.

  If the feds were watching, they’d see it.

  They wouldn’t know what it meant.

  He’d be gone before they figured it out.

  Freddie came over to the fire and sat. “Everyone’s gone. Sent them out in three vehicles and left the others parked outside. They’ll fan out when they get to Albuquerque and wait for us to contact them with our new base location.”

  Vigo nodded. “Good work, Freddie.”

  “Hector’s not back yet?”

  Vigo shook his head. “It’s about an hour out to the burial site. Time to do the job. Digging a grave and covering a body takes a while. Then an hour back. I don’t expect him to return until an hour before dawn.”

  “We didn’t have much product left, but I sent it out with the crew to be sold,” Freddy said. “Louis and Manny put the guns and ammo into one of the trucks. Now they’re out in the barns setting up the propane. Want me to go out and help?”

  Vigo stood and slid his worn jeans into his boots. “Yeah. Let’s both go. The work will finish faster.”

  CHAPTE
R THIRTY-ONE

  Friday, April 15

  12:15 a.m.

  Albuquerque, New Mexico

  After Kim had collected the surveillance video on the woman driving the sedan, she sent the clip to Finlay and to Gaspar. To each, she included the same text message. “Identify this woman pronto.”

  When the video and the messages were delivered, she and the guard, Potter, returned to Flint, still watching the entrance gate to the parking garage.

  “Any problems?” Potter asked.

  “Only that your repair guy never showed up,” Flint replied.

  Potter grimaced as he took his post. “Yeah, that service is slow. I may be out here all night.”

  Flint said, “Cops are upstairs with that sedan. They’ll probably tow it away later tonight. I gave them your name, in case they’ve got any issues.”

  Potter nodded. “Swell.”

  Kim inclined her head, said her goodbyes, and asked Flint, “There’s a coffee shop across the street. How about a cup of coffee?”

  “Yeah, sure. Why not.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed Kim out onto the sidewalk.

  She watched for an opening in the traffic and jaywalked across the pavement. When they reached the coffee shop, Flint held the door open. The gesture was curious. He hadn’t seemed like an old-fashioned gentleman. Made her wonder about his background.

  She went inside where the cold winds had been banished by the warmth of a fireplace.

  “Grab a table over there and I’ll get the coffee. How do you like it?” Flint said.

  “Hot and black,” she replied.

  He grinned. “Perfect. I like a low-maintenance woman who know what she wants.”

  She gave him an eye roll. “Right back atcha.”

  She settled into a chair near the fire. He brought the coffee a few minutes later and sat across from her. He asked, “What did you find out from the security guard about our mystery driver?”

  “Not much. I interrogated him a little. I don’t think Potter knew the woman. Never saw the car before, either. Just like he told us.”