Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3)(42)

“It’s a good start anyway.” Lance shrugged. “Some people can be followed in broad daylight. You’d be surprised how little people pay attention to their surroundings. Everyone’s totally focused on their phone.”

Stella slid down in the seat and stared through the windshield. Our Lady was an old stone structure. An attached parochial school formed one wing of the campus, while church offices comprised the other. Narrow and tall, the sanctuary’s spire towered over the neighboring buildings.

She scanned the sidewalk and the parking lot on the other side of the street. A woman got out of a blue Prius and hurried to the crosswalk, her heels clicking on the pavement. She jogged up the steps and disappeared inside the office wing.

“The meeting is in the basement below the offices,” Stella said. “The church donates the space several nights a week.”

While she watched the church, Stella played with a spare hair elastic on her wrist.

Bored, Lance slid his straw in and out of his Coke. “So how’s your grandfather?”

“Busy as ever.” Stella smiled. “I’m glad Morgan and the kids are living with us. It takes all of us to keep him occupied and out of trouble.”

“He’s a character.” Lance spun the straw. “How’s your sister?” he asked in a fake casual voice.

Stella took her eyes off the street for a few seconds to study his profile. He and Morgan had dated in high school, but Stella couldn’t remember which one of them had done the breaking up. She directed her gaze back to the church. “John’s death was hard on her.”

“How many kids does she have?”

“Three girls.” Who seemed to be coping better than their mother was.

“That’s tough.” Lance straightened and nodded toward the building. “Do you see that? There’s a person in front of the school office.”

Stella’s eyes pierced the shadow under the roof overhang. Something shifted. A faint orange light glowed brighter and then faded. “Gotta love smokers. Let’s see if he goes inside when he’s finished with his cigarette.”

Instead, he lit another. Stella gave him another ten minutes, but he didn’t move.

She reached for her door handle. “Let’s go have a talk with him.”

“Give me five minutes to circle around behind him in case he decides to bolt.” Lance opened his car door and slipped out into the dark, shutting his door gently. He disappeared into the shadows alongside the church buildings.

Stella checked her watch. When five minutes had passed, she started the engine and drove down the street, passing the suspect and making a U-turn. She pulled to the curb just as he lit another match. Under the hood of a sweat jacket, the flare highlighted sharp cheekbones over a gaunt face and scruffy beard.

Stella spotted Lance twenty feet away, hugging the side of the building. Flashlight in hand, she got out of the car and approached the loiterer. “Excuse me, sir. I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”

The man startled. He backed up two steps. Behind him, Lance’s shoe scraped on the pavement. The suspect’s head swiveled and he bolted straight between them, tearing off across the street directly into the path of a minivan. A horn blared. The van bumped his legs as he slid to a stop. He spun, slapping the van’s hood with both palms, and scrambling around the vehicle.

“Stop! Police!” Lance sprinted after him.

Stella was right behind them. The suspect hit the back edge of the parking lot and made a sharp left, skidding into an alley. Lance’s shoes slid on a patch of loose sand as he followed. He cursed and went down on one knee. Lunging to his feet, he ran, limping, toward the corner.

Stella gained ground on Lance, passing him and rounding the brick building. She spotted the suspect in the light of a streetlamp at the other end of the alley and willed her legs to move faster. Her thighs and lungs burned as she cranked up her speed. The suspect slowed, glancing over his shoulder.

She wanted to yell “stop” again but saved her breath for running. The suspect’s strides shortened, and he cut right and disappeared. Stella slowed, her hand hovering near her sidearm as she emerged from the alley into the next street.

Where is he?

She waited, listening, as her pulse thundered in her ears. A movement to her left startled her. Crouching, she flattened herself against the bricks.

The suspect bolted from a dark patch next to a Dumpster, and adrenaline sent Stella’s heart rate into hyperdrive as she went after him. He skidded around another corner with Stella right on his heels. She was close enough to hear his labored breathing over her own.

Stella made the turn into the rear yard of an auto body shop. A six-feet-tall chain-link fence blocked the rear exit. The suspect ran between rows of cars and leaped for the fence.

“Oh, no you don’t.” She closed in, grabbing him by the leg of his jeans. The baggy pants slid down until the waistband encircled his thighs.

Afraid his pants would slide right off and he’d slip away, Stella shifted her grip to his ankles and pulled hard. He fell off the fence onto his back, taking her to the ground with him, right into a pile of garbage. The fall knocked the wind from her lungs. Stella gasped for air.

He tried to scramble to his feet, but the jeans around his knees tripped him. He fell face-first onto the pavement.

Stella flipped onto her belly, got a leg under her body, and launched herself forward. “Get back here.”