“I ask that same question about Evie.”
He turned to face her, the frown eased and understanding filled his eyes. “I know you do. This certainly can’t help you any more than it helps me.”
“It keeps my mind occupied.” She turned away and her foot caught on part of the metal frame, causing her to stumble. As she did, something whistled by her ear, slamming into the frame with a solid thunk.
Two more zinged by as it registered—someone was shooting at her.
“Get down!” Ben yelled and lurched toward her.
Lainie didn’t need further encouragement. The shots came from her right. She rolled left and scooted behind a derelict pickup truck, rolling against Ben as she did so. There were more pings as more shots hit the truck and puffs of dust where bullets hit the dirt.
Ben made his way toward her, gun drawn. “Can you tell where the shooter is?”
“North corner of the yard, in the alley.”
The impound yard was an uneven, triangular-shaped lot. On the long side it abutted a dead-end alley. Lainie whipped her fanny pack around to the front as she searched for a muzzle flash, but it was broaddaylight. She doubted she’d be able to detect it. More puffs of dirt bloomed as bullets hit very close to her.
Unzipping her pack, she drew her own gun and then scooted forward.
“There.” Ben raised up behind her. He now had a better vantage point than she did. He fired a burst of four shots.
The yard was quiet. If she had a target, she would take a shot. “Do you think you hit him?”
“It would be pure luck if I did. I see a motorcycle helmet peeking over the fence. He must be standing on something on the other side. What’s over there?”
“Just the alley.”
“Whoever is out there knows we are not unarmed.” He inched his head up, gaze directed toward where Lainie believed the shooter was.
Shouts came from the direction of the tow yard office. Then Lainie’s phone rang.
It was Mel. “Who is out there shooting?”
“Someone at the north end of the lot, in the alley. Call 911 and stay inside the office.”
“We called 911. Are you okay?”
She was about to tell Mel to advise police to approach on Redondo Avenue. The alley opened onto that street; it would be the shooter’s only escape route.
Two more shots pinged the car frame. One came so close to Lainie that she dropped her phone. She drew herself back when Ben grunted in pain. He dropped his gun and fell backward.
CHAPTER 28
Fearing Ben was dead but still facing a threat, Lainie ignored her phone on the ground and brought her gun up, firing in the direction Ben indicated, though she had not seen what he saw. She moved in front of the fallen agent and then forward, firing as she went, not rapidly to conserve her ammo but consistently, trying to keep the shooter down. She wanted to sight in the helmet, if the shooter was still here.
Need to stop the threat.
She halted behind a tow truck to calm her breathing. As she peered through the towing apparatus, she could not see what was on the other side of the fence that encircled the yard. Just as she brought her gun up on target, she caught a glimpse of the helmet. She lined up the shot and fired. Direct hit. Bits of plastic flew up and the helmet dropped out of view. Lainie thought she heard a groan.
Keeping her gun up, she cautiously moved toward the fence. She could barely make out movement—the black slats in the chain-link fence did not block her view completely. As she got closer, she heard the rider kick-start the bike with a roar and speed away, east toward Redondo.
She broke into a sprint, but it was no use—she couldn’t see over the fence. She jumped up and scanned left, glimpsing a motorcycle taillight turn right on Redondo before she dropped below the fence line.
Now she wished that she’d picked up her phone. She could hear sirens approaching and she regretted the absence of a radio. If she had one, she could give direction of travel. There was no way to see the fleeing cycle’s plate.
She lowered her gun to her side and sprinted back to Ben. He was moving, his face a bloody mess.
“Ben, can you hear me?” She set a hand on his shoulder.
