Page 3 of Daybreak

The second Gunner saw a fleeing suspect, he shouted.

“Stop! Police!”

When the man kept running, Gunner kicked into gear, vaulting over an empty crate, side-stepping piles of ragged bedding left behind by the homeless who’d once sheltered here, and easily caught his runner at the door.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I didn’t kill him!” the runner cried.

Gunner flashed his badge. “Detective Kingston. Dallas Homicide. What’s your name?” he asked.

The old man spun, his eyes wide with fright. “I didn’t kill him! I didn’t kill him!” he kept saying.

Gunner saw the shoes on the homeless man’s feet and knew he’d guessed right about the shoes. “Sir, your name, please.”

“Dan Helford. I go by Yankee Dan. I didn’t kill him. I was looking for a place to get out of the rain and came in the back way. It was so dark I couldn’t see shit, but I knew the layout because I used to squat here.”

Gunner’s eyes narrowed. “And that’s when you found the body?”

“I didn’t find it. I was up here in the old offices bedded down for the night when I heard the big doors opening downstairs. I sneaked out to the landing to see what was going on because I didn’t want to get caught by the cops doing another sweep. There was a faint light coming in through the open doors from the outside streetlights, but all I saw were silhouettes. Two men were dragging one between them. They dumped him and left,” Yankee Dan said.

“Could you identify them?” Gunner asked.

“No way. Look around you. It’s black as the pits of hell in here, except for the lights you brought with you. If they hadn’t opened those big doors, I would never have seen a thing. I thought the man they left behind might just be hurt and came down to check for a pulse, but he didn’t have one. I took the shoes and socks. I needed ’em, man. I got a big sore on my heel from what I been wearin’.”

“We got a call from 911 about a body. Was that you?” Gunner asked.

Yankee Dan nodded. “I found the phone only because it was hidden in the top of his sock. I opened it by pressing his thumb on the ID screen. Called 911, then put the phone in his pocket. I didn’t search his body. I’m not a thief. But I did touch the body by taking off his shoes.”

Gunner nodded. “Okay, Dan. I need you to come with me.”

Dan stepped back in fear. “Are you arresting me?”

“No, sir. But I need to get your statement for the record, and we’re going to have to confiscate the shoes and socks you took. They’re evidence.”

Yankee Dan groaned. “Ah, man. Then I’m going barefoot because I can’t put those old shoes I was wearing back on. I already have an infected sore from wearing shoes too small.”

“I’ll get you fixed up with replacements,” Gunner said. “And we might round up some meds for your foot and some food in your belly while we’re at it. How’s that sound?”

Dan rubbed his face as he slumped against the wall. “Like a better end to this day than I could have imagined.”

At that point, Cliff and three cops arrived on the scene.

Cliff was out of breath as he approached, his flashlight aimed straight at the duo near the door. The patrol officers who’d taken the west staircase were coming toward them from the other direction.

“Good, you caught him,” Cliff said. “Who is he? What’s he doing here?”

“This is Dan Helford. He is the one who found the body and called it in. We need an evidence bag for these shoes. His DNA will be on them because he took them off the body, but he’s not being arrested. We just need to get his statement for the record,” Gunner said, then saw the patrol officers approaching.

Cliff pulled an evidence bag from his pocket, and Gunner dropped the shoes and socks in it.

Gunner pointed at Officer Davis. “You and your partner take him to Central Homicide and put him in an interrogation room. I’ll be there shortly. And tell somebody in the office to get him a pair of shoes and socks. He also needs some first aid on one of his feet and something to eat. Tell them I said so, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” they said and cuffed him.

Dan panicked. “You said I wasn’t under arrest!” he cried.

Gunner gave him a pat on the shoulder. “It’s just protocol. I promise,” he said and gave the patrolmen a look. “He’s old and he’s hurting. Take it easy, right?”

They all knew Kingston well enough to know not to push his boundaries. “Right, sir,” they said and slowly escorted Dan down, then walked him barefoot through the continuing drizzle, seated him in their patrol car, and drove away.