Chris Mooney - The Dead Room

Using her hip, she pushed the chest to one side.

'Floor,' she said, stepping over the grave. 'Get… ah…'

Don't stutter your way through this: just say one word at a time.

'Flo… Floor. Now.'

His brown eyes blinked, then narrowed. 'I know you.'

'Floor.'

'Okay, okay. Just take it easy… it's Julia, right?" He hiked up his trousers before kneeling. Then he clasped his hands behind his head. 'I remember reading about you in the papers.'

She slammed him down against the floor, pressed the Glock against the back of his head. He breathed in dirt and started coughing.

'Don't… ah… ah… move.'

He turned his head to the side and said, 'You have my word.'

She pulled back his suit jacket and reached for the shoulder holster.

'Since you were hiding down here, I think it's safe to assume you heard my conversation with Mr Reynolds.'

She tossed the nine into the grave.

'And I'm assuming you're the one who shot up the Belham house last night.'

She ran a hand across his belt. No handcuffs. She needed something that she could use to tie him up. She looked at the workbench. Paint cans and tools covered in dust.

You need to find something to tie him up and gag him – and you better do it quick before Kevin comes back.

'What happened to your husband and children, I didn't have anything to do with that. You have to believe me. That… that was all Kevin and Ben. You know Ben, don't you? He was at the house last night. Did you speak to him? What did he tell you?'

There was nothing here with which she could tie him up, nothing at all.

'I can tell you everything you need to know, but I need to sit up. I have asthma and I'm finding it hard to breathe. I need my inhaler. I'm going to sit up, reach inside my pocket for it, and then we can talk, okay?'

He spoke calmly. She didn't like it. Was he going to try to stall her until Kevin came back? Did he think she was that stupid?

'If you want me to talk, I need to use my inhaler first,' he said. 'If I don't, I'm going to pass out.'

You've wasted too much time. Kevin will be back here any minute and then what are you going to do? Shoot your way out of the house? If you die, Kevin will bury your body someplace where it'll never be found. The kids will be left wondering what happened to you as they're shipped off to foster homes. Cut your losses and get out of here.

She stood.

'Ben's… ah… partners. Two men… ah… at… ah… my house.'

'Let me get my inhaler.' Breathing hard, wheezing. 'I'm going to reach into my pocket -'

'Names… ah… first.'

'Just give me a second, okay?' Slowly he reached inside his jacket pocket.

She shot him in the chest.

The exit wound sprayed the back wall with blood. He put out his hands and said, 'Wait, please,' and she pressed the trigger and held it down, the Glock's semi-automatic action kicking in, spitting spent shells into the air.

Jamie wrapped the jacket's nylon hood around her head, tying it off underneath her chin. Ears ringing, she ran up the stairs to the front door and looked out of the oval window. No one outside. She tucked the Glock inside her shoulder holster, zipped up her jacket and opened the door. No one coming. Her gloved hands inside her pocket, she jogged across the street, which was still pounding with summer rain.

Darby sat in the back of the hot taxi as it fought its way through the heavy traffic on Mass. Avenue. She had Artie on the phone. The pounding rain and car horns made it difficult to hear.

She pressed her palm against her other ear to try to block out the noise. 'Say that again.'

'I said I'm on my way back from Vermont. I just finished going through Amy Hallcox's place. Can you hear me?'

'I can hear you.'

'Someone tossed it. It's a small house and she doesn't have a lot of stuff – there's barely any furniture in there. Got in touch with the landlord and the guy said she's been living there for about a year, pays on time, no problems. She had about two months to go on the lease but I get the feeling she might've been planning to move again. She's got a bunch of empty boxes stored in one of the rooms. As for why it was tossed and what they were looking for, right now your guess is as good as mine.'

'Anybody see anything?'

'No. The house is real isolated – the closest neighbour is a mile away, so these guys took their time. We asked around but nobody knows the Hallcox woman or her kid. Based upon what you told me last night, I'm figuring he knows something.

'I got your message about the kid's condition and the hospital tapes,' Pine said. 'What did you find?'

'I dropped them off at the Photography Unit before I went to the ME's office. I'm headed back to the lab right now. I have someone running down the plate number for the van. I haven't heard anything yet.'

'What about evidence on the woman's body – did you find anything?'

'Some fibres and hairs stuck to the duct tape and clothes. She didn't have anything in her pockets. I'll get to work on the clothes today.'

'Amy Hallcox's missing Honda is bothering me.'

'That's been nagging at me too. I'm thinking the shooter took it.'

'You said the kid didn't mention anything about hearing a shooter.'

'He didn't have a chance to tell me. Artie, someone shot their way inside that house. And we know, based upon what the boy did tell me, that there were two men inside – the guy in the Celtics gear and the guy in the suit. I'm thinking the shooter took down the suit first, then dragged the second guy to the Honda. The drag marks lead down the kitchen hall and stop inside the garage. And there's only one set of the bloody footprints on the garage floor.'

'Why drag away a dead body?'

'How do we know the Celtics guy was dead? Maybe the shooter wanted him alive.'

'Then why not take this person before he entered the house?'

'I don't know yet. But we do know that someone ran up the back deck stairs and tracked mud into the living room. Those footprints lead up the steps but not down. I'm thinking the shooter was watching from the woods.'

'So now we're talking about an entirely separate person – a third party that wasn't part of what went down in the house or that Rambo group we met in the woods?'

'Yes. And I also think the shooter cut the kid loose.'

'Why? What's the reason?'

'I don't know. If that son of a bitch hadn't -'

'I saw the guy's badge and ID. They were the real deal. So was the paperwork.'

'I'm not blaming you, Artie, I'm just pissed off. He played us and cost the Hallcox kid his life. I just wish I knew what the hell he wanted with him.'

'Have you seen any sign of Phillips or whoever he is?'

'No. '

'What about the others?'

'Not yet.'

'What about the prints taken from the house? Any luck there?'

'The lab techs got back about an hour ago. They've just started working.'

The taxi came to a sudden stop against the pavement.

'I've got to go,' Darby said. 'I'll call you as soon as I know something.'

She ran through the rain clutching a clear plastic bag. It held brown-paper bags of evidence to keep them from getting wet. She was soaked by the time she reached the front doors of One Schroeder Plaza. She had to go through the maddening check-in process before she could reach the lab.

She logged in the evidence, then went to her office to check messages. She had one. Nicholas Garcia, the homicide detective liaison to CSU, asked her to call him back. She had asked him to run the brown van's plates.

Garcia answered on the first ring and got right to it.

'They're phantom plates,' he said. 'They don't exist.'

'So how did they get the plates?'

'Probably through a contact at the DMV. It's not as impossible as it sounds. You pay someone on the inside to get the plate and then they erase any way to trace them.'