Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(78)

I walked, continuing to wear my path around the fountain. My observations regarding their interaction would be halted until my next lap. Then, a man approached from the direction in which Stephen and I had come. He wore faded jeans, a black T-shirt, and a heavy brown leather jacket. The weather did not warrant a jacket and certainly not one like that. An alarm sounded in my head.

As he walked toward me, something about his gait was off and a glimmer of recognition sparked in my brain, despite his mirrored aviator glasses concealing his eyes. He was familiar. His tan complexion—I froze.

“Detective Smith,” I whispered.

My eyes darted to Vance then back to the man. Vance saw my reaction. The man reached inside his jacket. The scene swirled in slow motion, and I focused on every minute detail while a tornado spun around me.

Vance bolted across the street, tires screeching to a halt and releasing plumes of burnt rubber into the air. He reached for his weapon as he ran, and I went for mine.

“Get down!” Vance shouted.

I caught a glimpse of the black metal emerging from behind the man’s jacket. Vance got to Stephen first, shoving him to the ground, and Andrews got to Avery, knocking him down with Cavanaugh right behind him. The man fired two shots, and a chorus of screams erupted. Footsteps scrambled, running in all directions in front of me and behind. It was chaos. Andrews lay motionless on the ground at Cavanaugh’s feet. Facing the shooter, Vance fired one shot. Blood sprayed from the back of his head, and he dropped, lifeless, face forward into the pavement. Cavanaugh crouched to assess Andrews. He wasn’t moving.

I sprang forward, staying low to the ground, toward Stephen and Avery. Another shot was fired, but it came from somewhere high. It hit low on the fountain and ricocheted with a high pitched ping into nothingness. It had missed everyone. Vance was down on one knee and aimed at the top of the building across the street. I could feel him wanting to shoot, but it wasn’t safe. He could easily hit an innocent person if he accidentally missed and fired through one of the windows into someone’s office. He looked for a visual confirmation on a shooter, but not even I saw one.

Cavanaugh was administering CPR to Andrews. Pinching his nose, he pushed two breaths into his lungs and started chest compressions. Given the amount of blood pooling on the pavement, it didn’t look good.

Capinski appeared at Cavanaugh’s side pulling him off of Andrews. “Get them out of here!” he yelled. Fear registered as he looked down at his partner bleeding out.

I made eye contact with Avery and Stephen. “When I say, run low to the ground and get in the van over there.” I pointed in the direction where Cavanaugh had parked the van. Both men looked and quickly nodded. Cavanaugh left Andrews and appeared next to both men. His eyes locked with mine, and we set our escape in motion.

“Now! Move now!” Cavanaugh shouted.

Stephen grabbed his backpack then Avery and Cavanaugh scrambled to their feet, heading toward the van. I hung back for a second not wanting to leave Vance. No more shots had been fired, so I hoped the shooter had left. Vance was still positioned with his gun pointed to the roof and scanning all around.

“Vance?” I said. I wanted him to come with us. Capinski was giving CPR to Andrews who showed no signs of life. The faint sound of sirens sounded in the distance.

“Get out of here! I’ll be fine,” he barked.

My heart hammered inside my chest. “Call me.”

He pleaded for me to get to safety, so I threw my keys at him and ran toward the car. Steven and Avery were already inside the van. I jumped in and slid the door shut behind me.

“Go!” I shouted.

Cavanaugh threw the van into gear, and we barreled down the road. Stephen was in the back bench seat behind me, and Avery was next to me in the other captain’s chair.

“Belts on!” I yelled to the two men. Seatbelts clicked as locks engaged. “Is everyone okay?” I asked, fully sliding into my seat and snapping my own belt across my lap.

“I’m fine,” Avery answered.

“Yeah, I’m okay too,” Stephen said.

“Where are we going?” Avery asked. His hair was mussed up and his hands shook in his lap as he laced his fingers together.

“The monastery in Mt. Adams,” Cavanaugh said.

“A monastery?” Stephen asked in high pitched tone.

“It’s abandoned and isolated,” Cavanaugh added.

“Where will we go from there?” Stephen asked.

“Our primary focus is getting both of you to safety then we’ll go from there. For right now, sit tight, and let me drive.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Avery asked. His seventy year old ears hadn’t heard the sirens.

“People are shooting guns in the center of the city. I’m sure the SWAT team is already there,” Stephen said curtly.

I looked over at Avery. “Stephen’s right.” I kept my tone soft, trying to lower everyone’s anxiety. “With all the people there, I’m sure lots of calls were made. Let’s focus on getting to the safe location then you can relax a little. It’s going to be all right.” That was the second time I’d uttered those words to Avery, I hoped I wasn’t wrong.

Avery nodded with a smile, but his eyes were clouded with worry. We all remained silent and faced forward while Cavanaugh navigated the city streets. We took to the hills leading to the top of the city. After a series of hairpin turns and narrow one way streets, we pulled into the open parking lot of the Immaculata Church in Mt. Adams, an enormous limestone building with one exceptionally tall tower topped with a large white cross.