bad.”
He shot a look over his shoulder. “Yeah, well, that’s just how it is sometimes.”
“Please keep your eyes on the road then,” she appealed. “I’m not ready to die just yet.”
“Gimme a break.”
“Just keep your eyes on the road, please?” she appealed.
“Relax. I know what I’m doin’.”
I heard my wife quietly mutter, “Gods, I hope so.”
“So anyway,” Ben reverted back to his original train of thought without ceremony. “No Albright yet, but you can bet that’s where she’s headed. As far as the house itself goes, the Overmoor coppers are pretty sure they saw a light go on then back off through one of the basement windows.”
“That’s where the killer was in the vision,” I acknowledged. “The basement.”
Ben snorted. “So, were ya’ plannin’ ta’ tell anyone about that part?”
“Sorry. But, I had enough trouble convincing you about the address as it was, don’t you think?”
“So you’re blamin’ me?”
“The situation, mostly. But, yeah, maybe just a little.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he replied in a dismissive tone. “So you pick up on anything else we should know?”
“The vision was a bit disjointed, and some of the imagery was classic la-la land, as you call it. But, if I’m remembering correctly, just beyond the front door is what appeared to be a living room…”
He interrupted. “You got a floor plan?”
“Some,” I answered. “Not all.”
“Hold on,” he snapped.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell and flipped it open once again. With a quick stab he hit redial and then speaker. The phone beeped then trilled briefly. On the second ring it was answered.
“Sergeant Madden,” a woman’s voice said.
“Sergeant Madden, it’s Detective Storm, you got anyone from SWAT handy?”
“Yeah, just a second…”
There was a brief pause, and we could hear a mix of voices, then someone else came on the line.
“This is Lieutenant Penczak.”
“Lieutenant, Detective Storm, Major Case. I think I might have a partial floor plan on the house for ya’.”
“I’ll take it,” the man replied.
“I’m handin’ ya’ over ta’ Rowan Gant,” Ben told him then thrust the phone at me.
I took it from him quickly out of an attack of self-preservation since he was already paying more attention to it than the road. As I grabbed the phone I stabbed my finger toward the windshield and shook it. My friend just rolled his eyes but returned his focus on the blurred white lines in front of us.
“Lieutenant,” I started. “The front door opens into what appears to have been a moderate-sized living room. Maybe fifteen feet wide by fifteen deep, best guess. There’s trash everywhere, but I don’t recall any major obstacles. On the back wall, there’s an arched doorway that leads directly into a hallway running parallel to the room. If you go to the right, it T’s with another corridor coming in on the left. Down that corridor, there is a charred door that leads to the basement. It’s on the right, about mid way.”
“What about the back?” Penczak asked.
“Sorry, I’m afraid that’s all I have.”
“That’s all right. It’s more than we had a minute ago,” he replied. “So how do you know all this? Have you been in the house?”
“Sort of.”
“What do you mean, sort of?”
Ben reached over and snatched the cell phone from my hand. “Trust me, Lieutenant, you don’t want ‘im to explain it. Are you ready to go?”
“We’ve got spotters on the house. There hasn’t been any activity for almost fifteen minutes now, so we’re setting up to move into position soon.”
“Good deal,” Ben grunted. “We’ll be there in five.”
“We’ll hold the party until you get here.”
“Yeah, thanks,” he replied with a definite note of sarcasm. “Captain Albright show up yet?”
“Not that…” The lieutenant’s reply was cut short by a burst of static and a voice in the background. When he spoke again he simply said, “Hold on…”
There was a clatter as if the cell phone was dropped, or at least tossed onto a hard surface. Over the tinny speaker, we could hear the muffled sounds of physical activity along with several unintelligible words being barked. Even though we couldn’t make them out, the brevity and tone told us they were probably a series of commands.
“What’s happening?” I asked Ben.
“Dunno, but it doesn’t sound good.”
We exited the highway and shot through an intersection, slowing only enough to avoid a collision and make a quick right. A languid forever later, a voice came back on the line.
“Storm, you still there?”
“Yeah, Madden, what’s goin’ on there?”
“It’s gone to hell in a hand basket,” she replied. “A spotter just put eyes on a woman entering the back of the house. He’s pretty sure it was Captain Albright. SWAT is already moving.”
“Goddammit…” Ben moaned. “Don’t you have a friggin’ perimeter set up?”
“Of course we do,” she replied harshly. “We have no idea how she breached it.”
“What a fuckin’ mess,” my friend huffed.
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
“We’re about three minutes out,” Ben told her. “Do what ya’ gotta do.”
He snapped the phone shut then tossed it onto the console as he slowed at another intersection then quickly accelerated the van while threading it through the cars that were still coming to a halt.
CHAPTER 32:
Three minutes became five when Ben missed a left turn from his hastily scribbled directions, and we were forced to double back up to the main thoroughfare from a narrow dead-end street. A quick flash of his badge saw us through the vehicular barricade at the end of South Millston, and thirty seconds later we had coasted down the block-long hill to a cluster of emergency vehicles scattered haphazardly around the T intersection at the bottom.
Splashes of luminance played across the fronts of the houses from active lightbars, casting an angry harshness across the entire scene. However, the strobing lights seemed to be the only things garish about the tableau. Everything-and everyone-else appeared to be almost somber.
Ben levered the van into park then switched off the engine as he watched the uniformed officers milling about in the street. On the sidewalk we could see a few members of the SWAT team who appeared to be casually chatting, their weapons pointed toward the ground in a somewhat relaxed posture.
“Yeah…” my friend breathed. “It’s all over but the paperwork.”
I scanned the area as I unlatched my seatbelt and allowed it to slowly recoil through my fingers. The metal buckle eventually struck the upper stop with a dull thunk as if to highlight his comment. After several seconds and multiple sweeps with my eyes, I said, “I don’t see Albright anywhere.”
“Yeah…me neither,” Ben muttered with a slight nod. “And that ain’t good. Let’s just hope she’s either bein’ a nuisance or warmin’ a seat in the back of a patrol car.”
We climbed out of the vehicle and into the cold night air. There was a palpable chill that transcended the physical, for me at least. I glanced over at Felicity as she slid the door shut on the side of the van, and from the way she shivered then cast her eyes around, I could tell that she was feeling it too.
“Detective Storm?” a questioning female voice called out from several yards away.
