to cut off whoever our kayaker was. He continued his slow crawl across the lagoon. I pul ed the gun up again and tracked him. Just for fun this time. The kayaker ducked and paddled, stil a rough but steady stroke. His face turned once, as if he sensed something, and his profile flashed in a column of light. I lowered my gun. Then I heard a crack, and the kayaker’s chest exploded in a cloud of tissue and red.
Robles heard a pop and felt a tug at his throat. Then he was at the bottom of the kayak, staring up at the sky and choking on his own blood. Robles thought about the girl from last night. He’d enjoyed kil ing her. This morning on the Drive, even more. He thought about al the others, women struggling against the darkness, children submitting, smal graves in the woods. Those were his private treasures. His secrets. Today had been his glory.
Robles’ mind emptied, and fil ed again with a summer day. He was a kid gone fishing. The sun gentled and the boat rocked as the man moved in the bow and then settled, cigarette in one hand, line in the other. Robles remembered the trout he’d caught that day, silver and pink against the roughed-out bottom of the boat. The man gripped the fish, bel y down, and hit it twice with the rounded butt of a knife. Then he threw the trout into a rusty hold fil ed with water. Robles remembered looking into the wel, seeing the black eyes peering out from under. Then the lid closed, and the eyes were gone. The man returned to his perch and fel asleep. The boy remained where he was, breathing softly and watching the water move around him. Such were Robles’ thoughts as he looked up at the sky, lungs swol en with blood, police chopper drifting, and then nothing.
CHAPTER 27
I’m fine,” I said, for the fourth time in the last minute and a half. The inside of my mouth tasted like dry wool. I reached for a paper cup and felt the pul of an IV in my arm. The water slipped down my throat, but seemed to have no discernible effect.
“You realize how close you came to dying?”
Rachel was standing beside the ambulance, head bandaged, shoulders hunched, arms crossed. She had been in the middle of Lake Shore Drive, talking to Rodriguez, when I cal ed over on the radio. Then came a report that I’d been hit. She hitched a ride in a squad car and bitched at the cops the whole way. At least, that’s what they told me later.
“The bul et caught my vest,” I said, showing her the four stitches in my side. “Nothing more than a scratch.”
“It’s a little more than that, Mr. Kel y.” That was the EMT, not making things any easier, so I ignored her.
“How’s your head?” I said.
Rachel touched the white bandage at her temple. “My head’s fine.”
She’d been in the wrong place on the Drive at the wrong time. Unlucky in some ways, incredibly fortunate in others. Either way, it wasn’t my fault, even if I felt like it was.
“Someone taking you down for X-rays?” I said.
She nodded. “Rodriguez said he’d drive me over.”
“You okay?”
A smile limped across her face and back into her pocket. “Just tired, Michael.”
I took her hand. “I’l cal you later.”
“Maybe make it tomorrow.”
“You sure?”
“You’re going to have your hands ful here and I just need some sleep.”
I kissed her, then watched her walk away. Rodriguez was waiting by his car. He caught my eye and held it. Then he touched Rachel’s shoulder. She got in the passenger’s side and leaned back against the headrest. Rodriguez climbed in the other side, and they drove off. I unplugged myself from the IV and stood up. A couple of police choppers stil hovered over the lagoon, an effort to keep the flying media away. A police boat had tied up to the kayak. They were offloading the body in a bag. I began to walk toward the shoreline.
“Mr. Kel y, I can’t just let you go.” The EMT was fol owing me. “You could go into shock and there’s a risk of infection.”
“Is he giving you a hard time?”
Katherine Lawson trudged up the slope from the lake. Three more agents trailed behind her. Lawson pul ed off a set of latex gloves and threw them into a bag that had the word HAZARD stenciled on it.
“What did you find?” I said.
Lawson held up a finger and huddled with the EMT for a moment. Lawson came back alone. “Thank me, Kel y. I just got you a hal pass.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She held out a bottle of pil s. “Take four immediately and two a day after that until they’re gone. Prevents infection.”
“Four right now?”
“That’s what she said. How’s the side?”
“Your protective vests suck.”
Lawson looked over at the garment, folded and lying inside the ambulance.
“That’s Chicago PD issue.”
“And if I’d been wearing yours?”
“I’d probably be helping Rachel Swenson pick out a black dress. By the way, how is she?”
“She just left. Got banged up a little by the air bag, but otherwise, fine.”
“I like her.”
“So do I,” I said. “Let me ask you a question. Any reason to think she was the target here?”
“You mean was he targeting Rachel to get at you?”
“Something like that.”
Lawson shook her head. “Unlikely. If he was, why waste bul ets on anyone else? And she was the only one he missed. By the way, here’s your gun.”
The agent pul ed my nine-mil imeter from a bag by her feet.
“Thanks.” I tucked it into my belt. “So you’re thinking Rachel was another coincidence?”
Lawson nodded. Usual y I hated to agree with the feds. This time, not so much. We walked a little more until we reached a line of police tape. A notso-smal crowd had gathered beyond.
“I’m guessing you’d like to get out of here?” Lawson said.
“You here to make that happen?”
“Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
CHAPTER 28
We drove five blocks to a bar cal ed Four Farthings. Twenty years ago, it was a big singles joint in Lincoln Park. Then the crowd got old, which was okay except they forgot to leave. Now the place was mostly fil ed up with dusty conversations about the good old days from a dried-up clientele who tended to fal asleep after three drinks.
At five in the afternoon there were six people at the bar, al crowded around a flat screen, watching the news and talking about Chicago’s shoot-out on the Drive. We found a table in a corner. Lawson told me I shouldn’t drink with the meds they gave me. I thanked her for the advice and got a Fat Tire on draft. Lawson shook her head and ordered an Absolut with a twist. I took a deep draw on my pint and sat for a moment in the happy state of being alive. Lawson took a smal sip and watched me.
“What did you find in the kayak?” I said.
