Deadly Aim (40 page)

“We were set up.” Mike glanced at her. “Did you tell anyone you were coming down here?”

“No.”

“Nick?”

“I just told Angel.” He frowned. “Come to think of it, Brandon was in the room.”

“Brandon had nothing to do with this.” Angel said.

Nick nodded. “Maybe. We’ll have to look into it. In the meantime, you should go home.”

Angel didn’t argue, but she wasn’t ready to leave just yet. She did leave the dock area. When she reached her car she climbed in and turned the heater on full blast. Only when the medical examiner and the medics arrived, with a couple reporters close behind, did Angel decide to leave. She drove down Main Street, past the old cannery, and pulled over when she saw a vehicle that shouldn’t have been there. It looked like Callen’s unmarked car. Was he at the other end of the wharf with the others? Come to think
of it, she hadn’t seen him there at all. She called dispatch to put her through to Detective Riley.

“He’s not answering his cell phone or his pager,” the dispatcher told her. “We haven’t been in contact with him for over an hour. I thought maybe he’d gone to Portland.”

“He wouldn’t have done that without letting someone know.”

“Well, I did think it odd, but things have been so crazy.”

“His car is parked at the old cannery on Main. Can someone meet me there?”

“I’ll put out the call.”

Angel found a flashlight in the back of the Blazer and walked the width of the building, looking down the streets on both sides. She hoped Callen would be outside looking around, but she decided he must’ve gone in. She held her breath as she stepped inside, her flashlight making a wide sweep across the huge expanse.

“Callen?” She called his name several times, and her voice echoed off the concrete walls. She walked slowly, her gaze following the narrow beam. Toward the back of the building she saw a crumpled form.

Her heart leaped to her throat.
No, please, no. Not Callen
! She ran to his side and shone the flashlight more fully on him. Her heart racing, she set the light down and began to examine him. At first she thought he’d been shot, but there was no blood except for the stuff matted in his hair at the back of his head. She checked his carotid, letting out a long breath when she felt a pulse.

“Callen?”

He groaned and rolled onto his back.

“Callen, talk to me, please.”

He groaned again and lifted his right arm to his forehead. “What? Angel?” He tried to lift his head and winced in pain.

“Lay still. I’m calling for an ambulance.” She called dispatch and gave them the location. Then she took off her jacket and bunched it up, laying it under Callen’s head.

“I...” Callen opened his eyes, then closed them again. He reached for her, and she took his hand. Clasped in his fist was a .40 cartridge. “Found it...” He dropped it on the concrete and pinched his eyes shut. “Might be your second shooter.”

Angel picked up the casing and slipped it into her jacket pocket. “Did you see who hit you?”

“No.” He tried to sit up again, but Angel restrained him. She could hear the sirens approaching, and seconds later the warehouse door opened.

She told the paramedics about the head injury and stepped away to give them room. They checked vitals, supported his neck, and got him onto a stretcher. Within minutes they were on their way to the hospital. Angel followed in the Blazer, thanking God and praying that Callen would be all right.

At the hospital, while she waited for Callen to be admitted to the ER, she examined the casing. A .40. She thought again about the missing evidence. Most of the officers she worked with used a .40 Glock. Of course, it was possible that the shell casing Callen had found had nothing to do with Billy’s death.

But then what had Callen walked into?

When she finally got to see Callen in the ER, he was more fully awake. He grinned at her when she came in to the cubicle.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Angel crossed the room and took the hand he offered.

“Good for someone who got hit in the head with a baseball bat.”

Angel frowned. “Is that what it was?”

“I have no idea. Sure felt like it though.” He closed his eyes, and Angel sat down on the chair beside him. With his eyes still closed he said, “I talked the doctor into letting me go home, but I need a favor.”

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t you stay overnight at least?”

He gave her a sour look. “I need a ride home. My dog hasn’t eaten since this morning.”

“I can feed your dog for you.”

He moved his head side to side and winced. “I’m going home. Would you be willing to stay at my house overnight? Doc says I need someone to check on me every couple of hours.”

Angel chewed on her lower lip, unwilling to admit how frightened she’d been when she’d found him and how relieved she was that he was alive and how reluctant she was to leave his side again.

“I have an extra bedroom.”

She found herself agreeing, and minutes later an orderly was wheeling him to the entrance of the hospital, where Angel picked him up. Callen gave her directions as they drove. When they turned into his driveway, Angel was surprised to see that his was the house she admired so much during her daily jogs.

A beautiful bichon frise met them at the door, bouncing like Tigger on the tiled entry. Angel’s gaze quickly scanned the living room and kitchen. His kitchen was huge—almost like her mother’s. That shouldn’t have surprised her. What did surprise her was how nicely decorated it all was. But with the dog demanding attention, she didn’t have much time to think about the decor.

“Hey, Mutt.” Callen hunkered down to pet him, then lifted him into his arms, introducing the wiggling mass of fur to Angel.

“Mutt?” Angel rubbed between his ears while he licked her hand. “He’s adorable.” A watchdog, he was not. She was surprised at the breed—not the type of dog most police officers had. They often went for the bigger, more masculine dogs like German shepherds, Dobermans, or Labs.

“He was my wife’s dog,” Callen explained as he set the animal down to remove his jacket. “I didn’t like him much at first. I called him Mutt. She called him Punky. My name stuck.”

Callen put a leash on Mutt and handed the dog off to her. “He needs to go out, and I don’t think I’m quite up to it.”

Angel took the leash. “On one condition—that you lie down and let me wait on you.”

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I think I can handle that.”

Angel stepped out the patio doors into the cold night air. She hadn’t walked a dog in years, not since Bailey, the family’s golden retriever, was alive. Bailey had been hit by a car when Angel was fourteen, and they hadn’t had a dog since.

Mutt strained at the leash, urging Angel to run across the sand toward the ocean. The mist was still as thick as it had been earlier in the evening when she’d gone down to the docks. Another shooting. And the attack on Callen. What did it all mean?

Mutt did his business and hightailed it for the house. Angel wondered if Callen would feel up to talking about the investigation tonight. Then she thought about curling up next to him on the couch and resting her head on his shoulder. She smiled. The snuggling would have to wait, as would the talking. Callen needed rest, and she would see that he got it.

The next afternoon, Angel sat in the hard wooden pew of her lawyer’s office, staring at the brilliant colors of stained glass. Rachael was supposed to join her soon to talk about strategy.

What strategy? She had exhausted her resources. If a gang member had been responsible for Billy’s death, there was no evidence to support the theory. The casing Callen had found in the warehouse led them exactly nowhere. He had ordered all of the law enforcement officers in the area to turn in their weapons to be checked against the casing primer. None were a match. Divers found two more casings, both .45 caliber, one in the water near where J.J. had been shot and one under the dock where Angel had seen the mysterious figure.

According to the manufacturer’s batch number, the bullets apparently had all been hollow point—police issue. Three casings, coming from two guns, and no viable suspect. They still had no real evidence to support the theory that she had only fired one shot, only her word and the casing Callen had found.

The grand jury hearing was scheduled for the following morning. Angel’s chest tightened at the thought. A trial could lead to conviction and possibly to prison. The idea terrified her. Even in this room of color and light, she felt as though she’d been covered in a dark impenetrable cloud from which she couldn’t escape. She’d never been one to give up, but what more could she do? Her life was no longer in her hands.

“Bad things happen
.” Angel remembered her mother’s comments at the hospital while they had waited for her father
to come out of surgery.
“God never promised us they wouldn’t. In fact, the Bible tells us they will. Pain and suffering are all part of life. God only promises to be with us, to uplift and encourage. To carry us to the other side
.”

An odd sense of peace flowed through her, drawing her gaze upward. She closed her eyes. “Okay, God, I could use some of that guidance right about now.”

Angel heard a rustling noise and glanced back. Rachael scooted into the pew beside her.

“Well, tomorrow’s the day.”

Angel sighed. “Rachael, I want you to know that I won’t blame you if we lose and end up going to trial. The other day I was so sure I had only fired the one shot. Now, I’m wondering if it was just wishful thinking. Maybe it’s one of those weird tricks the mind plays when it can’t face the reality of what actually happened.”

“We’re not going to lose. Especially now. The owner of the pharmacy died.”

“Mr. Bergman? When? No one told me.”

“I just got a call from the DA. As terrible as that is, it strengthens our case.”

“How? Billy wasn’t a gang member.”

“We don’t know that for certain. The important thing for you to remember is that you are innocent. It doesn’t matter if you fired one shot or three, you are not guilty of any wrongdoing.”

“But if I’m indicted, I’ll be up on manslaughter charges,” Angel murmured, more to herself than to Rachael. “I wish I had some answers. Callen said he thinks Billy saw J.J.’s body when he was up on the second floor of the warehouse. He thinks maybe the back stairs were blocked by someone and that person is what made Billy turn around and come back down the stairs. I wish I had waited. I made the wrong call, Rachael.”

“You did what you felt was right at the time.”

Angel moved her head from side to side, studying the hand that had held the gun. “We’re going to need a miracle.”

“Then we’ll just have to pray for one.”

O
n Thursday morning at twelve noon, Angel walked out of the courthouse in a daze. In the end, the lack of evidence had worked to her benefit. The members of the jury had found the shooting justifiable. They believed she had acted in accordance with police procedure. The number of shots didn’t matter.

Eric, who’d been one of the witnesses, was the first to congratulate her. “I knew it wouldn’t go to trial. I knew it. Didn’t I tell you?” He pulled her into an exuberant hug. The grand jury hearing had been held in private chambers, and Eric had waited with her through the entire process.

“Yes, you told me. But I’m still in shock.”

“Nice job, Rachael.” Eric shook the lawyer’s hand, then turned back to Angel. “I wish I could hang around, but I have to get back to work. I’ll see you later, partner.”

“Thanks, Eric.” Angel watched him walk out the door, his large form nearly filling the doorway.

“He seems nice,” Rachael said.

“He’s been really supportive through this whole thing.”

“Well, you should be getting clearance to go back to work soon.”

Angel sighed. “I know, but I’m not sure I’m ready. I’m working through some rough spots with my counselor.”
And getting things
settled with Callen
. Angel kept that thought to herself. Her relation-ship with Callen was so new and fragile; she wasn’t certain where she stood. He hadn’t been the least bit affectionate while she’d been at his house and had almost seemed anxious for her to leave. She’d told herself it was because of the bump on the head and the never-ending investigations with a string of deaths and very little substantive evidence.

Angel and Rachael talked briefly with reporters then escaped to lunch at Tidal Raves in Depoe Bay to celebrate Angel’s freedom. After lunch, Angel dropped Rachael off and headed for her parents’ place. She wished she could stop and tell Callen the good news, but he wasn’t home. He should have been there recuperating from his head wound, but he was as stubborn a man as her father. He’d told her the night before that he wanted to be with her during the hearing but had to go to the crime lab in Portland after giving his testimony.

Her father greeted her with a hug. “You see, Angel, I told you all along the grand jury would find for you.”

“I know you did, Dad.” Angel hugged him back.