ANGEL: He looks a little different, but it’s been a while. Those are definitely his eyes. It’s him.
My heart raced with the knowledge that we finally had a real sighting of the target. The phone in my hand instantly rang—it was Lucas.
“Jordy has him in the northwest section of Santa Monica, not too far from the beach, about halfway between me and Terry,” Lucas said. “He has settled in for a cup of coffee. We should have him wrapped up in less than five, if you want to meet us at HQ.”
Northwest Santa Monica was so far from here that it would be irresponsible of me to ask them to hold off so I could grab him. “Peyton’s still busy being interviewed by O’Connor. I’ll stay put and bring her in for an ID of the guy when she’s done here.”
“Copy that.” Lucas hung up.
Striding quickly to Pete, I gave him the good news. “They spotted him in Santa Monica. Lucas expects to have him in custody in five.
“Uh, okay. What do you want me to do?” His tone was much less elated than I felt.
I’d forgotten that giving Pete a mission to keep him busy was one of our priorities. “We stay for now. He could slip away.”
“Roger that.”
Just then, a young man burst through the door from the corridor.
My hand went instinctively to my SIG, but seeing he wasn’t armed, I didn’t draw.
Pete was less discerning and had his weapon out and aimed in a fraction of a second.
The guy went instantly pale and his hand shot up. “There’s an accident on the street. Lots of blood. We need help.”
With lives in danger, I shifted into mission mode. I was the senior here and ordered Pete. “Go help. As soon as I check in with O’Connor, I’ll be right behind you.”
As I ran to the room that held my woman, Pete secured his weapon and followed the guy out the door.
“Hey,” O’Connor complained as I burst through the door.
I pointed at the detective. “There’s an accident with injuries on the street that Pete and I are going to help with. It’s just you on guard until we get back.”
He patted his jacket. “And Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson.”
I nodded and shot a smile at Peyton before I closed the door.
Peyton
Just a little longer,I mentally repeated.
After I’d confirmed the last image Jordy had sent me to review, I’d focused on having the Strangler out of my life forever. For once, the guy had the right color eyes.
Yet I continued enduring the mind-numbing repetitiveness of Sergeant O’Connor’s questions in the demo room.
The detective checked his notepad. “Did Ms. Moulton’s apartment look disturbed when you went in? As if someone had been looking for something?”
“Who would be looking for something?”
“The Strangler. If things were disturbed, it could indicate that he had been there. It might look like somebody was searching for something if he was trying to remove fingerprints, that sort of thing.”
I closed my eyes and willed my stomach to stay under control. His question suggested that I could have run into the Strangler, if my timing had been unlucky.
I thought hard before answering. “It didn’t look that way.”
“Was she a neat or a messy person?”
I shifted in my seat. The several cups of coffee I’d downed to ward off my sleepiness were doing me in. I’d already mentioned that I wanted a bathroom break. “Sort of in between.” She was neat at work, but her apartment certainly wasn’t as organized.
