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“First, we have to find her.”
“She’s missing?”
“No, she is hiding—my friend is picking her up. Something really spooked her.”
“Maybe seeing two men killed right in front of her?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Her instincts buzzed. There was something more worrisome about the phone conversation than he’d shared. “I’ll help any way I can.”
“I know you will,” Craig said. “I’ll talk to my contacts and make a push to bring you into our investigation. We need you, especially now that Chen is dead.”
Contacts? Not his boss? Not his investigator, Sharp? What was really going on here? Was Craig running an investigation outside the purview of the DA himself? Was Craig deep into something super serious—so serious that maybe Chen had been killed because of it?
Chen was going to talk...and that might make some people nervous.
If only Kara knew who these people were.
A man in a suit came from the opposite hall and as the doors to the elevator opened, he bumped into them hard enough to make her stumble.
“Excuse me!” Kara snapped, irritated.
The man kept walking without apology. Tall, slender build, thick facial hair, but that was all she could see as he turned away from them. He put something in his pocket and at the same time Craig slumped against her. He was clutching his side.
Blood dripped to the marble floor.
“Craig?” She looked down the hall. The man was heading for the east stairwell. She pulled her gun and shouted, “Stop! Police!” She couldn’t shoot, there could be people on the other side of the wall.
“Find her. Save her.”
“Save who? Violet? Save Violet?”
“Will. Call Will.” He coughed, wheezed. He grabbed her blazer with a trembling fist, pulled her down. “Will Lattimer.” His voice was barely a whisper, and she wasn’t certain she heard him correctly.
He was talking to a “Will” when he got that call. Was it Lattimer?
She knew a Will Lattimer.
His hand dropped as he lost consciousness. Two people came out of an office and Kara ordered one to call an ambulance, and one to take over for her and apply pressure to the wound. Without waiting to see if they complied, she pursued the suspect as the stairwell door closed behind him.
She called Matt as she ran.
“Dyson was stabbed. Caucasian male, dark suit, beard, east stairwell. I’m pursuing. Lock everything down!”
She pocketed her phone, picked up speed.
As soon as she entered the stairwell, she stopped, listened.
The man had gone up. He was taking the stairs two at a time. A smear of blood on the handrail... Craig’s blood.
She ran as fast as she dared. Saw another smear on the wall as the staircase turned.
She didn’t see him, but heard heavy footfalls as the attacker fled. Why up? There was no escape up.
She hesitated a half second before every turn in case the suspect planned an ambush. He was still moving.
They’d been on the tenth floor; the building was eighteen stories. There was nowhere to go from there. Places to hide, lots of courtrooms and offices, but there was no getting out. The building was on lockdown.
