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“No? Then where is she?” a deep, harsh voice demanded. Something loud crashed in another room.
Dev rounded a corner and raced down a short hallway with a bathroom at the end and a door on either side. The door on the right was open, the room in shambles.
A loud thud sounded as if something heavy hit the wall in the room on the left. “Tell me!” a man shouted.
Dev reached for the handle of the closed door and tried to turn it. It was locked.
“Tell me!” the man screamed. Another thud made the wall shake.
Kiana appeared beside Dev. “Oh my God. Tish?” She pounded her fist against the door.
Suspecting the man was hurting the woman, Dev grabbed Kiana and moved her away from the door. He backed far enough away and then kicked as close to the doorknob as he could.
The door frame cracked but held.
On his second kick, the frame split, and the door slammed open.
Nothing moved in the room except a filmy curtain hanging beside an open window.
A dark-haired woman lay crumpled against the wall, unmoving.
Kiana squeezed past Dev and dropped to her knees beside the woman. “Tish.” She felt for a pulse. “Tish, sweetie, it’s me, Kiana.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “A feel a pulse,” she said. “I’m calling 911.” She looked up at Dev. “Don’t let him get away.”
“What if he comes back?” Dev asked.
“I’m calling 911. We can’t let him get away. Not after what he’s done to Tish.” She waved toward the window. “Either you go after him, or I will. Go!”
Dev raced for the open window and stared out.
Footsteps pounded against the landing. A man dressed in black with a black ball cap ran toward the end of the landing.
With no time to backtrack through the apartment, Dev pulled himself through the window and hit the landing running.
By that time, the assailant had reached the end of the building only to realize he’d passed the staircase leading to ground level. He turned, saw Dev heading his way and vaulted over the wrought-iron railing, dropping to the ground below.
He hit hard, rolled and staggered to his feet.
Dev didn’t wait to get to the end of the landing, he braced his hands on the railing and launched himself over. When he hit the ground, he tucked and rolled as he’d learned during parachute jump school. He was on his feet in seconds, racing after the man several yards ahead of him.
The attacker moved with a decided limp, ducking through an alley and between buildings.
Dev was faster, quickly closing the distance between them.
When Dev was only two yards from catching the man, the assailant burst out of the densely packed buildings. He crossed a sidewalk, dodged between a couple of parked cars and raced out into a four-lane road.
A horn blared, tires squealed, and a huge garbage truck slammed into the man in black. The impact knocked him to the ground. The truck’s front tire bumped over him before the vehicle rolled to a stop.
Dev had made it to the parked cars when he heard the horn. He was able to arrest his forward progress short of running out in front of another car. Too late to stop the inevitable, he waited until all traffic came to a complete halt.
When he was certain he wasn’t going to be the next person run over, he ran to the body lying on the pavement between the front and back axles of the garbage truck and knelt beside him to feel through the man’s pockets for a wallet or some form of identification. His pockets were empty but for a packet of cigarettes. It wouldn’t do any good to take a photo of the guy with his head crushed.
Dev pushed the man’s right sleeve up, searching for any kind of identifying marks. Nothing. When he pushed the left sleeve up, he found a Polynesian mask inked in black on the inside of the man’s forearm. He quickly snapped a photo of the tattoo with his cell phone.
The truck driver dropped out of the driver’s seat. “I couldn’t stop,” he said, his voice shaking. “Is he...?”
“Dead?” Dev nodded. He didn’t have to feel for a pulse. The garbage truck’s wheel had rolled over the man’s skull, crushing it beneath its massive weight.
“Sweet Jesus,” the truck driver muttered, fumbling in his pocket. “We need to call 911.”
