her attention on the man she was supposed to be taking care of, Jane walked with Millie beside Seamus to the edge of the parking lot and waited. While Millie sat on a nearby bench and Seamus braced himself against his walker and stretched out some of the kinks in his shoulders and back, Jane scanned the parking lot.
So the nameless killer known to the FBI simply as Badge Man for the emblem he carved into the chest of each of his victims had surfaced. Where? How? The profile on him said he shadowed his victims, mostly law enforcement professionals or collateral damage as she’d nearly been. He’d watch for days, weeks even, as if he were a cop on a stakeout. Then he’d up his game like he had with Freddie, inserting himself into their lives to learn more about them, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse—finally cornering his targets like prey, forcing them to either run or fight before he collected them, killed them and left his mark on them.
Was he watching her right now? Following her? Jane couldn’t stop the shiver that raised goose bumps across her skin, even on this warm September night. If Conor Wildman suspected the killer was on her trail, he’d have alerted her with the code word and she’d already be gone. She’d had the extraction scenario drilled into her time and time again. He’d call or text her the code word. She’d drop everything instantly and either make her way to the appointed safe house or he’d pick her up and move her to a secure location outside the city. But Badge Man must be somewhere in the country watching, tracking, toying with his next intended victim.
The restaurant near Union Station was immensely popular. There was a rehearsal dinner going on outside on the patio behind them, with clinking glasses and cutlery, loud laughter and enough overlapping conversations to make talking to Millie and Seamus difficult. So Jane stood silently beside the bench, studying the parking lot for any signs of something or someone out of place. The cars in the lot were parked close together, as the business tried to fit as many customers into the fixed space between the railroad tracks and remodeled old buildings as possible. The cars were packed tightly enough that it was difficult to see between them. Plus, the decorative train signal lights overhead cast impenetrable shadows that masked the traffic beyond the second row of vehicles.
Her late husband had taught her to always be aware of her surroundings. It was safety rule number one for living in a metropolitan area as heavily populated as DC. Of course, she hadn’t counted on the threat coming right into her own home. Since Freddie’s death, she’d gotten into tip-top physical shape, taken self-defense courses and become hypervigilant to the dangers that lurked out there in the world.
That’s why she was frowning at the noise of squealing tires and the smell of burned rubber wafting across the parking lot as Thomas pulled his truck up in front of the sidewalk. But she couldn’t pinpoint the source at this distance through all the cars and shadows.
Thomas had noticed something suspicious, too. When he climbed out of his truck on the side away from the curb, he was slow to close the door. He turned his head to the right and to the left before heading toward the back of the truck. Seamus had noticed something, too. He’d gone over to stand with his hand on Millie’s shoulder.
“What is it?” Millie asked.
Urgent. Conor’s text had been trying to warn her. No! Danger wasn’t supposed to find her here.
A powerful engine revved and a beat-up white van raced out of the shadows, barreling straight toward the truck.
“Thomas!” Seamus shouted.
“Look out!” Jane ran toward Thomas. He was standing right in the van’s path. “Move!”
“Everybody back!” Thomas snapped his arm around her waist as she reached for him. “Get down!”
Thomas lifted her off her feet and dived for the sidewalk. Jane caught a brief glimpse of an open passenger-side window and several small flashes of light a split second before she heard an explosion of gunshots. Thomas grunted against her ear and they were falling, rolling. The points of her knee and elbow burned as she hit concrete. She heard people screaming. Maybe she was one of them. She slammed into Thomas’s chest when he came to an abrupt stop against the curb.
Then he was on his feet, pulling his gun, running after the car in his awkward, rolling gait. “KCPD! Stop the vehicle!”
He fired one shot, but the van skidded around the corner of the building into the street and sped away into the night.
Shouts of panic and crashes of dishes and furniture echoed in her ears as Jane pushed to her feet. Ignoring her own voice of panic screaming inside her head, she stumbled over the fallen walker and hurried to the bench where Seamus had collapsed on top of Millie. “Are you two all right?” She touched Seamus’s shoulder. Had he fallen? Had he been shot? Freddie’s killer had tormented him for weeks before the home invasion, threatening the people around him. Threatening her. “Seamus?”
“I’m all right.” He leaned heavily against her as she helped him turn and sit on the bench beside Millie. “We’re all right.”
Jane swept her gaze over them both to confirm his claim. “Millie?”
“It’s happening again, isn’t it? Why does someone want to hurt this family?” She sobbed once, but quickly pinched her nose and held off the threat of tears. Seamus pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pushed it into her fingers. “I’m all right. I don’t understand, but I’m all right.” She pushed to her feet and swayed. “Where’s Thomas?”
“Millie?” Jane caught the older woman by the arm and urged her to sit before she fainted.
“Thomas?”
“I’m right here.” Jane turned at the deep voice behind her. His chest and shoulders expanding with deep breaths, Thomas strode up to them, pulling his badge off his belt as he stuffed his phone into his pocket. “Are they okay?”
“Yes. Frightened out of their minds. Millie is a little shocky, but no one was hurt.”
“Good.” He held his badge over his head and shouted to the crowd. “I’m KCPD. Detective Lieutenant Watson. I need it quiet.”
Except for a few lingering whimpers, everyone in the doorway or on the patio stopped talking to listen. Even Jane’s panic stopped. For a split second.
“I’ve already called the incident in. Officers are on their way. Is anyone hurt?”
There was a smattering of conversations as friends and family checked in with each other, but then the group quieted again. Thank goodness. No one had been shot.
“That’s good. I need everybody to take a seat.” While chairs were righted and people got up off the ground where they’d taken cover, Thomas spoke to one of the waiters. “I need everyone to stay put inside the restaurant, as well. Let me know ASAP if anyone in there is injured. And I need to talk to your manager.”
While the young man hurried inside to do Thomas’s bidding, Jane turned to inspect Millie again. She caught the older woman’s wrist and timed her pulse. Her heart was still racing, or maybe that was her own, but Millie’s color was better. Jane picked up Seamus’s walker and set it in front of him. She appealed to the cop in him. “I need you to make sure she stays seated. She’s a little light-headed and I don’t want her to pass out. Can you do that for me?” He took Millie’s hand and nodded. She wanted him to stay put, too, so he wouldn’t fall and injure himself, either. “I’m going to check around to see if anyone needs medical attention.”
She
