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She took another look. “Well, he’s probably shorter than average height, a somewhat intense driver, maybe even prone to fits of road rage. And he travels up the I-15 freeway toward Escondido fairly often.”
“Whoa. Okay, I figure you got his height from the position of the seat. What about the road rage?”
“Look how worn the leather on the wheel is. He grips that thing to within an inch of its life. Definitely not a relaxed driver. Almost every angry driver I’ve ever known has a steering wheel that looks just like that.”
“I-15?”
“He has a FasTrak freeway electronic toll tag clipped to the visor. No one would go through the trouble of getting one unless they used it regularly. The I-15 is the only major local freeway that uses the FasTrak payment system.”
Lynch nodded. “Between the two of us, we know everything about him except the one thing we really want to know.”
“Then hadn’t we better get it out of him?” She pointed to the construction trailer. “Should we start there?”
They approached the structure and tried the door. Locked. Lynch peered through warped blinds covering the windows. “No one here. I’m starting to get the feeling that he may have gone out for an after-work beer with his coworkers. If that’s the case, we may be waiting here until someone brings him back here for his truck.”
“Maybe not.” Kendra cocked her head. “Do you hear that?”
He listened. “Footsteps?”
She pointed toward the building. “From that direction. Let’s go.”
Before they could move, a man’s scream echoed across the empty plaza!
Lynch pulled out his gun. “Hurry!”
They bolted across the plaza and climbed an uneven set of cement stairs. They entered the building’s large ground-floor opening, which would obviously one day become a grand foyer.
“Oh, God.” Kendra stopped short. Just a few feet in front of her, a man was lying on his back, throat cut and impaled on three lengths of iron rebar protruding from the concrete floor.
Lynch knelt beside him. “It’s Dusenberry. I recognize him from his driver’s license photo.”
Kendra spun around as she heard something. Then she went still. “Whoever did this is still here.”
“Which way?”
Her gaze was already searching deep into the bowels of the dark building, where concrete dust was swirling in the air. “There.”
They ran into the shadowy corridor, slowing only to listen for footsteps echoing ahead.
The footsteps stopped.
Kendra put her hand on Lynch’s arm. “Hold up.” They stopped to listen.
Silence.
Lynch raised his gun and stepped forward. The last tinges of daylight crept around the tall pillars, casting long shadows over the concrete corridor. He motioned toward the right side. They ducked low and moved from pillar to pillar, watching for any sign of their prey.
No trace. Damn.
Kendra froze. Had she just heard the sound of someone breathing up ahead? Maybe slightly to the left…
She glanced at Lynch and cocked her head toward the shadows before them. He nodded and raised his gun again.
He took one step, then another…
BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!
Gunfire rained from the dark corridor. Lynch went one direction, Kendra went another, each taking cover behind a different pillar.
