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So deal with it.
He looked around himself. Beneath the dirt and animal droppings and leaves he could see black and white linoleum, curling up in places. No furniture beyond the bar itself, which at least was heavy and solid wood. There was probably a back door somewhere down that shadowy recess to his left. The lack of any light coming from that direction meant that exit might be boarded up.
Okay. He was pinned
down again. But at least he had better visibility—and he wasn’t standing in wet muck up to his shins.
Kennedy had implied Gervase would have already worked through whatever objections his conscience might make to murdering a fellow law enforcement officer. It couldn’t be that easy. Not for a man who had dedicated his life to upholding the law. Gervase might be capable of murder, might feel driven to it, but he wasn’t going to enjoy it.
He would need to justify it to himself. He would want to justify it to Jason.
You didn’t have to be a behavioral specialist to know that much. It was basic human nature. Nobody saw themselves as the villain in their own story.
“Why’d you do it, Chief?” Jason called. “Why’d you kill her?”
The shot came through the broken window and hit the wall low behind the bar where Jason crouched.
Not good. Gervase already knew exactly where he was.
“You must have had a reason. It had to be an accident.”
There was something halfhearted about the shot that followed. It was a foot away from Jason’s hiding spot.
“You brought us into this. If you’re going to kill me, you at least owe me that much.”
“I didn’t bring you into it,” Gervase returned. In a strange way it was a relief to hear his voice. “I didn’t ask for you. This isn’t on me.”
“You brought Kennedy into it. Which makes me think you wanted to get caught.”
“Which makes me think you’re dumber than dirt.” Gervase’s next shot grazed the top of the bar above Jason’s head. Jason stared up at that pale, splintered gouge in the darker wood.
He swallowed. Yelled, “Why the hell did you call for the FBI then?”
“I didn’t have a goddamned choice!”
Well, that made no sense. Regardless of the actual words, the fact Gervase was willing to talk meant there was still a chance of reaching him.
Or maybe not; the next bullet plowed a couple of inches lower, and Jason flattened himself to the dusty floor.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He looked around for a better position. To his right there was a staircase leading up to the second floor, but it looked like it had torn away from the landing. And Gervase, who appeared to be positioned outside the front window also on the right, would have a clean line of fire.
Jason moved to the end of the bar and trained his weapon on the window where he could just see the edge of Gervase’s shadow.
“If it was an accident, why didn’t you report it right away? Why did you try to cover it up?”
“It doesn’t matter what it was. It’s too late now.”
“It does matter. You kill a federal agent in cold blood, you’re done.”
“I’m done if I don’t kill you.”
“Kennedy knows. For Christ’s sake. Everybody in your station must have figured it out by now.”
“I know Kennedy knows. The bastard never stopped phoning me the whole way here.”
If that was true, Kennedy must have been desperate to stop Gervase. He’d deliberately abandoned any element of surprise.
