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Chapter75

THE UNIFORMED MAN WALKEDup the steps to the top floor of a building across the street from Burlington’s main hospital. He carried a sniper rifle and took up a post at a window looking out onto the street. He glanced to his right and then his left. He blended in with the counter-snipers in the area.

He manipulated his scope, and drew his sightline.

He made sure to keep to the shadows as he pointed his weapon at the window opposite his position. In his mind he envisioned the space behind the closed blinds and worked some numbers into his shot calculations.

He recalibrated his scope and then took aim once more. His trajectory calculations complete, his finger slid to the trigger. He would fire three shots, in rapid succession.

He settled down his respiration and with it his heart rate. In truth, the distance was not a problem. However, he was, in some ways, firing blind. Yet he should still be able to hit his target.

His eye and grip as steady as humanly possible, he squeezed the trigger slowly three times, moving his barrel in a precise pattern as he did so.

Then he dropped his rifle and sprinted to the back of the building. From there, he quickly made his way down the stairs and out the exit. He rushed down the street to where a car was waiting for him.

He jerked open the door and climbed in.

“Hit it,” he said.

When the car didn’t move, he looked over.

Four guns were pointed at his head.

Special Agent Alex Jamison, who held one of those guns, said, “You’re under arrest.”

***

Decker looked at the shards of glass strewn around the hospital room—the empty hospital room, although earlier that day it had housed both Rachel Katz and Mitzi Gardiner. They had been moved to another room well away from here, at Decker’s request.

He brushed the floor with his foot where the three shots had hit. They lined up with Katz’s bed. The woman, had she still been in the room, would have been dead.

But there had been no shots aimed at Gardiner.

Lancaster stood in the doorway watching Decker. When he glanced over at her, she shook her head, her lips in a straight line. It was as disapproving a look as Decker had ever seen on his old partner.

“Old sins cast long shadows,” murmured Decker.

Lancaster nodded as Special Agent Bogart appeared beside her. “It’s still a bitter pill to swallow,” she said.

“I feel the same,” replied Decker. He glanced at Bogart and then returned his gaze to Lancaster. “You ready?”

“I’m ready.”

They climbed into Bogart’s rental and drove over to the police station. They took the elevator to the homicide detectives’ office. Lancaster opened the door and poked her head in. Natty was the only one in there, reading over a file at his desk.

Lancaster said, “Blake, you got a minute?”

He glanced over at her. “Sure, what’s up?”

“You’ll see. But you need to come with us. Now.”

Natty looked puzzled and apprehensive. He slipped on his jacket, which had been hanging on the back of his chair, and walked out into the hall, where he saw Decker and Bogart.

“What’s going on?” he said, looking at Lancaster.

“Like I said, you’ll see,” she replied.

“One thing, Natty,” said Decker.

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