“Glad you’re on this one,” Malik says, and I make a mental note for later to ask him why.I assume they have a prior relationship.
Frost turns to me.“You’ve been busy tonight.”
“Wasn’t on my schedule,” I reply evenly.
Frost nods, pulls out his phone.He flips open an app and hits a “record” button.“Walk me through it.”
So much for the old-style detectives who took notes on small spirals.
I give him the clean version.Perimeter alert.Thermal signatures.Forced entry through the living room window.Immediate threat and I fired to defend.Rear door breach.Also fired to defend.I articulate distances, angles and shot placement.I keep it factual without bravado or embellishment because no one cares about that shit.
“Did you intend for those to be kill shots?”he asks.
“I think the bullets to the heart might be an indication that was my intent,” I reply blandly.Also, mental congratulations to myself that when push came to shove and the pressure was intense, I was a fucking phenomenal shot.
The coroner and his assistant exit the house, pushing a gurney with a body bag zipped neatly inside.Frost nods at the covered stretcher.“No ID on either of them.No wallets.No phones.No prints in the system yet.”
Malik doesn’t miss a beat.“I’d wager you won’t find any identifying marks either.No gang ink.No military tattoos.Nothing that ties them cleanly to an organization.”
Frost studies him.“Why’s that?”
“This was professional,” Malik says.“If they were sent knowing there was a possibility of resistance, they were sent clean.No trail back to whoever gave the order.”
“Is there something going on here that I don’t know about?Why would professionals come after Ms.Ward?”
“She’s an investigative journalist,” I reply, garnering Frost’s attention.“She is working on a piece that implicates some important people in arson and murder.”
The detectives eyebrows shoot straight up, and I can see by the look on his face he’s expecting me to spill all of it.
“It’s not for me to say and I would guess that she will invoke journalistic privileges not to divulge that yet.She intends to turn the information over to the police after she completes her investigation.”
Frost’s eyes narrow on me.“If she’s holding back information about a murder—”
“Save it,” I snap, cutting him off.“This is going to turn around pretty quickly after tonight.You’ll get the information.”
Frost nods curtly and shuts off the recorder.“We’ll run DNA.Maybe we get lucky.”
Malik’s expression remains steady.“You won’t.”
The detective raises a brow.
“We operate in this world too,” Malik continues.“Shadow contractors.Off-book operators.”
Frost absorbs that without visible reaction, but I see the flicker behind his eyes.“I’ll say this—from what I’m seeing, it’s a clean self-defense shooting.Washington law doesn’t require you to retreat inside your own residence.They forced entry, they were armed and you responded.End of story as far as I’m concerned.”
Stand your ground without needing to say it.
“Still,” he adds, “I’m going to need you downtown for a formal statement which I’m sure you understand is standard procedure.I’d rather do it now while it’s fresh.”
“Fine,” I say.
The cop nods toward Tessa.“I’ll need her statement, so she’ll need to come too.”
“Later,” Malik says, stepping in, his voice authoritative.“She’s exhausted and traumatized.But she’ll present herself to you after a good night’s sleep and some food.”
“Fine,” the cop says, his irritation clear.But the truth is, Tessa’s not under any obligation to talk to them at all so he knows he needs to take what he can get.
“Get Tessa packed up,” I tell Malik quietly but firmly.“She’s not staying here.”
