Thomas smiled as best he could.It was about all that could be done most of the time.Then, he doubled back toward the gym to tidy up before he left for the night.
As he was picking up the chairs, a faint memory gripped him of a time when he had thrown a chair.It hadn’t been a folding one, but a creaky wooden one in a bar that had hit the wall and cracked.Perhaps a bar wall—he was drunk at the time, and the memory was fuzzy.
Thomas was standing down to pick up the last chair when someone spoke.
"Thomas."
The name was stated.It wasn’t a question, more like a way for the visitor to show they knew his name.
"Yeah," Thomas groaned as he picked up the last chair and set it straight at the end of the row.He stood up and turned to the figure, seeing the gun in their hand for the first time."What do you want?There’s nothing of value in here."
"There’ssomethingof value," the person said."Depending on how you look at it."The gun was waved, signaling Thomas to move from the chairs to the center of the court.
He had dealt with guns before and had guns pointed at him.He wasn’t afraid to be held at gunpoint, but with how easy it was to kill someone with some slight pressure added to the trigger, he didn't disobey.Most conflicts could be resolved in this situation if you listened and found out what the other person wanted.
The figure stepped closer, pointing the gun at Thomas’s chest."Turn around."
"I don't want to do that," Thomas said defiantly.
"Turn around, or I’ll shoot you in the chest, and you’ll get blood all over your precious basketball court.Won't you think of the children?"
Thomas thought of Mark.Had he left right before the figure had entered?Was he safely on his way home?Thomas grimaced at the intruder, then did what they said, but not before studying their face and exposed skin.He didn't recognize the person, and there were no visible tattoos to indicate gang membership.
"Down on your knees," the figure said.
"So, you can execute me?"
"I said, down on your knees."
Thomas heard the conviction in the voice, and he did as he was told.Had they come for him now after all these years?They could have gotten to him at any time over the past five years, so why now?
He listened, waiting for the figure to step closer and thump him on the head.He didn't believe the person was there to shoot him.There was no silencer on the gun, and there would surely be people close enough to hear a gunshot.If the figure got close enough to him, he might be able to—
He never heard them coming.He only felt a coldness in the back of his neck that spread through the rest of his body.
I can't get blood on the basketball court.There’s a tournament tomorrow.
That was the last thought that went through his mind before he slumped forward onto the wooden floor.
CHAPTER ONE
Dr.Alison Payne sat at the dining table in her Oakland home, looking out the large windows at the front of the house at the city below.Her house was up in the foothills of the city, offering her some privacy and great views.She'd made the decision to move up there years ago after multiple death threats from inmates she had helped to imprison or the ones she hadn’t recommended for early release.
Alison was forty-four, stern-looking, with piercing green eyes and dark hair.She was a serious person, but that had begun to change over the past couple of years since working with California Bureau of Investigation agent, Derek Sullivan.Derek sat opposite her at the dining table, waiting for her opinion.
They made an unlikely couple, but the longer they were together, the more they met in the middle.Alison dressed businesslike almost all of the time, while Derek liked to look disheveled when he was working, something that caused him to be underestimated to his advantage.
However, over the past few months, the crumpled suits had been replaced by more professional ones, and the constant shading of stubble was a thing of the past.In reply, Alison often wore her hair down instead of up in a tight ponytail, and Derek’s sarcastic wit had begun to rub off on her.
This was not a time for any of that wit from either of them.Alison had recently returned from Reno after being lured there by a man from her past, Nathan Cross, who had killed three women to get her to the city, and then tried to dine with her with the intent of her being his final victim.
Derek had been there for a short time before returning to Oakland prematurely when a murder case caught his attention.
It was that murder case that Alison was currently pursuing.She took a day to get settled back into her home after the traumatic event of being trapped in a hotel room with Nathan before backup arrived to subdue him before he could attack her.
The victim in Oakland, Katrina Sands, had been killed while out jogging late at night, and they hadn’t found her killer yet.Alison didn't know whether she wanted that to happen or not.Of course, she wanted the killer brought to justice, but she and Derek had recently linked three cold cases to the murder of Alison’s sister Emma from twenty-two years ago.
If there wasn’t an obvious killer who could be brought in, then it could connect to the other four cases, and that gave them a current case to investigate that might lead to finding her sister's killer after over two decades.
