So did mine.
The pistol hammered my palm, and muzzle flash lit up the darkness. That zesty scent of gunpowder wafted.
The wet thump of my bullets hitting the shooter's chest filled the ballroom.
Shrieks of horror filled the air.
By that time, Senator Bergen’s security staff had taken the politician to the ground and hovered on top of him.
"Coconut County!" I shouted, advancing to the perp with my flashlight beam spotlighting his bloody jacket. He writhed and moaned on the ground, chest heaving for breath.
Sheriff Daniels called dispatch for backup and EMTs.
As I reached the perp, I kicked the pistol away, holstered mine, then knelt down and put pressure on the wounds. His warm blood soaked through my fingers.
I didn't want this guy to die.
I wanted to find out who hired him. I shot him in the upper right quadrant. The bullets had drilled through the brachial plexus.Ifhe kept the arm, he’d never use it again.
“Who do you work for?”
His panicked eyes darted about, his skin slick with sweat.
I asked him again, but he said nothing.
I leaned in close and hissed. “Do you want to live or die? ‘Cause I’ll let you bleed out right now.”
He swallowed hard and whispered a name.
Flashlights slashed the darkness as EMTs and paramedics arrived with more deputies.
I backed away, let the medics take over, and crossed my fingers.
57
By the time the lights came up, Catalina was gone.
EMTs stabilized the perp, loaded him onto a gurney, and rolled him out.
I had taken a phone from his pocket, which I was sure was a burner. I’d used his biometrics to gain access and scrolled through the recent calls and texts. The last message read:[Plan B. Now!]
The message was sent moments before the attempted assassination.
I called Isabella and asked her to look into the history of the phone. With a few taps of the keys, she was able to tell me that the message came from another burner phone located within the ballroom. I’d need a court order to obtain records from the phone company, which would take time. But it still didn’t give me enough probable cause to arrest Catalina. The shooter’s whispered declaration was nothing more than hearsay. I needed corroborating evidence.
With a few more taps of the keys, I got it.
Isabella told me the shooter’s burner had appeared at Catalina’s residence in the recent past. A careless mistake. Some people aren’t as disciplined. All it takes is one slip-up. Forget to turn the burner off, and bingo. You’ve just associated that device with a location. I’d need to acquire all this information legitimately before taking action.
I told the sheriff, and we wrapped up at the scene.
Senator Bergen found us before we left. “Seems I owe you boys an apology.”
I shrugged.
“Nice shooting, son. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”
He smiled, then moved on to speak to the press as the camera closed in.
