“Can you see the hospital?”
“Yes... are you there?”
“No. We’re on the hill behind the hospital. We found the shooter’s nest up here. There’s nobody here but us marshals.”
“God... bless me. All right. I’m coming. I’ll get our crime scene people moving that way... in a few minutes.”
Lucas got off the phone and Rae said, “You guys look here,behind the shed. Look at the grass. He was messing around doing something here, you can see knee prints.”
They looked, and Lucas made a wide step around the knee prints, squatted, and said, “That brick’s been moved.”
“He dumped the gun,” Rae said. “The gun’s under there.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” Bob said.
—
THEY MOVED AWAYfrom all the trampled grass, marking their own movements with the tape. Two minutes later, Jane Chase pulled up in a red Mazda MX-5 convertible.
“Who knew?” Rae muttered. “I had her figured for a Prius. A brown one.”
Chase was wearing jeans and a Barnard College sweatshirt; her hair was perfect. “Tell me,” she said.
“Where’s everybody?” Lucas asked.
“They’re a few minutes behind me,” she said. “I sorta wanted to... be here first. After you guys, of course.”
“Naturally,” Rae said.
“I mean, I didn’t mean...” Chase said, momentarily flustered.
“Don’t worry about it, boss lady,” Rae said.
“Ignore her,” Bob said to Chase. “She likes to stir the shit. Anyway, let me ’splain this to you.”
As they walked her across the site, Lucas could see a caravan of cars suddenly burst up the streets leading to the hill, all of the vehicles running their flashers.
“Exactly when did you call them?” he asked Chase.
“Two minutes ago,” she said. “When I got here.” She pointedto a tombstone. “That’s pretty beaten down, don’t you think, Bob? It looks like somebody was sitting there for quite a while.”
“Using the tombstone like an easy chair,” Bob said. “Maybe sat there all night. Saw the Secret Service guys going into the hospital. Shot over their heads. He’s a cold motherfucker.”
“It’s that Linc guy,” Chase said. “Lucas, we gotta run him down.”
“He’s next,” Lucas said.
—
THE FEDS SWARMED THE PLACE, agents in white environment suits pulling up grass and swabbing tombstones, looking for DNA, bagging the diminutive .223 shell. Another two guys, in full suits, coveralls, booties, and gloves, removed the brick at the bottom of the shed, bagged it, and peered under the shed with a LED light as powerful as the sun.
“We got a gun,” one said, laconically. “And we got a case.”
Chase looked at Lucas: “If the gun still has a serial number...”
Lucas glanced at Bob and Rae, who simultaneously shrugged. Bob said, “I wouldn’t get my hopes up, honey. This guy is not stupid. I doubt he’d go to a gun store and sign all the papers and then use the gun to shoot a kid. And then leave it behind.”
“But we’ll look, huh?” Chase said.
