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Gabe saw the black SUV, windows tinted dark, no front plate. It was about four car lengths from them. He would have thought Fed car, but there were Abolish the Police stickers on the back bumper.
He continued down the left side of the alley. In a normal shooting investigation, all this would have been done before the scene was opened to contamination. He ground his teeth. In the old days they wouldn’t have backed down from the rioters; they would have conducted their investigation. They would have set up laser measuring devices to help determine the trajectory of Jess’s bullets. Since they hadn’t been able to do that, he was making his best guess.
Head down, he looked for anything he thought could be called a scuff or a fresh scar from a fast-moving 9mm bullet. Gabe brought out his small utility flashlight and scanned the curb as he walked, then moved the beam up higher. He hit pay dirt on a dumpster.
“Yen, over here.” He stepped close to the stinky dumpster. The mark was unmistakable, a graze from a bullet. But no slug. He shone his light on the mark. “What do you think?”
“It could be from a bullet,” she agreed. “But how do we prove it was Jess’s bullet?”
“Mostly impossible, especially after all this time.” He took out his phone and snapped some pictures. He then looked back to where Jess said he’d fired from. Standing there was a tall man, dressed in black, ball cap on, dark sunglasses, thick red beard onhis chin. What stood out to Gabe were his gloves. It waseighty degrees outside and he was wearing black leather gloves. The overall outfit was meant to be intimidating. Gabehad seen such an outfit on many rioters over the last few weeks.
“Well now, who’s this?” Yen asked.
Gabe ignored the question. “Let’s keep looking. We found evidence of one. Odds are we’ll find another.”
He turned away from the man in black and continued his search up the alley. Just to the right of a security door Gabe knew led to the rear fire entrance for the apartment complex, he found a divot in the brick mortar. Down in the grime and litter of the alley was a smashed and deformed slug.
“Bingo.”
“You found something?”
“Yep.” With his phone, he measured the distance from the divot to the slug and photographed both. He spoke to Yen. “Stand here. I need to get measurements to Nineteenth Street. Then you can collect this evidence.”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Gabe turned. The man in black had moved closer and he now had two friends.
Gabe pocketed his phone. “Conducting an investigation.”
“You ain’t a cop.” There was a harsh riff of a twang in the man’s voice. New York, Gabe thought. An out-of-towner causing trouble in LaRosa.
Yen started to say something, but Gabe held up a hand. “I’m an investigator. How is this any of your business?”
The man stepped closer. He was at least two inches taller than Gabe’s six feet. The move was an obvious attempt to intimidate. Gabe refused to give ground.
“This ain’t your alley. It’s mine. It’s an autonomous zone. Can’t you read? You’re trespassing. Leave. Now.”
The other two moved closer, crowding Gabe. One of them looked dangerous. He had visible tattoos on his neck running from under his collar to his chin, and a bitter, hard glint to his eyes. The other was a follower.
Gabe didn’t want his attention divided. He kept his eyes on the big man, the obvious leader. “I don’t recognize your ownership. I don’t recognize your zone. You’re impeding a lawful investigation. If you don’t leave, you’re subject to arrest.”
The big man smiled. “You’re making a big mistake, friend.” He jammed his right forefinger toward Gabe. “Last chance. I’m gonna bust you up and toss you into a dumpster like the trashyou are.” The last word he punctuated by touching Gabe’s chest.
In one smooth, rapid motion, Gabe grabbed the gloved right hand in both of his, twisting and spinning the man around, jacking the bent wrist up to the center of the man’s back, locking him in a textbook twist lock. He applied enough pressure on the wrist to force the man to bend his knees, bringing him down lower, keeping him off-balance.
“Ahhh, ahh,” the man in black howled in surprise and pain. He was tightly muscled, which actually made it easier for Gabe to apply pressure and pain.
“Stay where you are,” Gabe ordered the other two. “I’ll break his wrist unless you back off, and my partner will arrest the both of you.”
The man in black cursed. “Ignore him; get the cop,” he ordered, voice strained with pain.
Yen pulled her nightstick and stood at a ready position. “I’m happy to arrest both of you for assaulting a cop. Who’s first?”
Gabe had to suppress a smile. Yen was small but mighty.
“You guys need my help?” Mel asked as he jogged up.
Gabe saw indecision cross the tattooed man’s face, and for a minute, he feared they’d have a real fight on their hands. The third man turned and ran. Tattoo looked from Yen to Mel, held his hands up, and backed out of the alley.
