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“Damn it! He’s dead.” He shone his light around. “Oh, shit!”
“What!”
“He’s got a noose tourniquet around his neck.”
“Don’t tell me…”
King pulled back the tarp some more and shone his light down the dead man’s arm. “And his watch is set to five, and there’s a black arrow drawn on the floor pointing right to it.”
Michelle directed her light to Junior’s features. “He hasn’t been dead long, Sean.”
“I know; he’s still warm.” King froze. “What was that?”
Michelle looked behind her, her light making arcs through the darkness. “What?”
“I thought I heard footsteps.”
“I didn’t hear anything—” Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the red laser dot appear on King’s head. Its meaning was crystal clear to the firearm-savvy Maxwell. “Sean, don’t move,” she said hoarsely. “You’re red-lighted.”
“I’m wha—” But then it dawned on him what she was saying. The laser aim tracker could be followed at any moment by a bullet that would hit precisely where the dot was: in this case his brain.
As she watched, the red dot slowly moved to Michelle’s gun, flitting there like some deadly wasp ready to sting. This message was also clear. She hesitated, debating whether to chance it, turn and fire. She glanced at King. He’d obviously seen the dot’s location too and, reading her thoughts about trying to get off a shot, shook his head in a definite no.
She reluctantly put down her gun on the floor, pushing it away with her foot. When the red dot appeared on her flashlight, she turned it off and placed it on the floor. King slowly followed suit. The red dot then appeared on her chest and moved up and down her body, seemingly in a teasing manner, as though the person aiming the laser were fondling her.
Michelle was growing more and more irritated and beginning to gauge how far she’d have to jump to grab her weapon. While she was calculating the odds of getting off a shot before the other guy did, she failed to notice that the red dot had disappeared.
Finally realizing it, she looked at King’s image in the shadowy darkness.
“Is he gone?” she said softly.
“Don’t know,” King whispered back. “I don’t hear anything.”
That changed moments later when they heard the gunshots. They both hit the floor, Michelle crawling desperately toward where she thought her gun was. One inch, one foot. Come on! Come on! As her fingers closed around the metal, she stopped and listened.
“Sean, are you okay?”
Seconds went by and there was nothing.
“Sean!” she whispered desperately, her hopes bottoming out when he didn’t answer.
“I’m okay,” he finally said.
“Damn it, you almost gave me a heart attack. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I fell on top of Junior, that’s why!”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
They waited a few more minutes. When they heard a car start up in the distance, Michelle leaped to her feet, grabbed a light and raced out, King right on her heels.
They slid into the Lexus.
“Call 911,” said King. “Tell them to get the roads around here shut down as fast as possible. And then get hold of Todd.”
Michelle was already on the phone.
