Santiago remained in the dark hallway.
Quieting, he listened to the commotion toward the back. Two shooters had been detained. Vince, the owner had been shot in the chest. There was a third person who’d surrendered immediately.
Santiago held his position until his intuition was validated.
Something creaked in the room Peters had run from. Then there was a thump that sounded like it came from above. He gazed up at the acoustic ceiling tiles then advanced toward the opening again, weapon drawn. Roan stepped into the hallway from the back and Santiago held up his fist, motioning toward the room Peters had cleared.
She nodded, drawing her weapon, and advanced.
Quickly peering into the room, he didn’t see anyone there and silently communicated that to Roan. The room was dark and shadowed, but his eyes had adjusted enough for him to see thelarge metal table, at least ten feet long, against the opposite wall toward the back.
The table had a few tools and car parts on its surface; more parts on the open shelf below. There were a vertical, four-drawer metal cabinet, a metal folding chair, and a worn beat-up couch along the wall beside the door they’d entered.
An area on the back wall had dusty fingerprints, signaling it was a place often touched.
“Peters said the room was clear,” he said, glancing over at the wall covertly because he’d also saw the two cameras in the room, one mounted on the ceiling near the couch and the other on the ceiling in the corner near the bay doors. “Thought I heard something though.”
Roan shrugged. “It’s an old building.”
“Did we find anything back there?” Santiago asked.
“Some guns. We’ll have to run them. Vince should survive the gunshot. He had enough drugs on him to go to jail for possession but nothing that indicates he was running a major drug operation out of the garage.”
He and Roan met near the area where the fingerprints were.
“How’s Derry holding up?”
“Kid’s a damn good shot. Saved Cutter from a bullet. Cutter’s still in a bad way though, he’s known Vince since they were kids.”
Santiago nodded. That was the thing about being in law enforcement in small towns, the folks you arrested were often folks you knew intimately, who knew you intimately.
Lifting his fist, Santiago banged on the wall where the fingerprints were.
“Whoever’s on the other side of this wall, you got one minute to decide whether you want a different fate than Vince. Is what you’re doing here worth the loss of your life, the grief and shame for your family?”
He looked at the closest camera as both he and Roan raised their guns toward the wall.
After a few moments, static filled the space before the volume lowered.
“How do I know you ain’t go’n shoot me like ya did Vince?”
That was the voice of Eddy Baker, sounding scared and petulant at the same time.
“I didn’t shoot Vince so I can’t speak on that, but I can promise you, you come out easy, we’ll have us a friendly chat. You prove you’ve done nothing wrong, and you’ll be with your family by the morning.”
“Tell me this Stillwater, what if...hypothetically, I did do something wrong, you’ll give me a deal?”
“You know me Ed, I don’t make promises I can’t keep, but you’ll be treated fair.”
After another moment of apparent contemplation, an electric locking system released. The wall slowly swung out, and Eddy walked out hands up.
Roan holstered her weapon and frisked him briskly. Santiago stepped into the hidden room noting the electronics and security system.
“You saw us coming,” he muttered as he watched the various camera feeds.
The cameras didn’t surveil too far from the property, but if somebody had been in that room when Roan, Cutter, and Derry approached, they’d have definitely seen them coming.
“Of course we saw you coming; why do you think I holed up in there and Adam took off running; he’s got warrants. And no offense, but a bunch of cops descending on the place, guns drawn, don’t foster feelings of safety and peace.”
