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“Sir, please speak more slowly—”
I hung up, knowing I couldn’t explain. I’d be there in seven minutes, faster than any cop anyway. I whizzed past corporate centersand shopping centers. I could see Hessian Post Plaza in the distance on the right.
I checked the clock. It was eleven o’clock.
I could only pray they were running late.
I spotted an old brown Honda behind me and felt like I had seen it before, but I couldn’t be sure.
I accelerated, clenching my teeth.
Chapter Fifty-Five
I reached Hessian Post Plaza, veered into the parking lot, and slammed on the brakes at the hubbub. Gabby had said she was going to engage the community, but I had never expected a crowd this large. Hundreds of demonstrators thronged in front of the buildings, all races, ages, and sizes walking in a circle, chanting, “No justice, no peace,” and carrying signs,justice for the holmesburg seven,tuskegee today, andphilly, pay up!They massed over the east end of the plaza, blocked the entrance, and overflowed the sidewalk. Cars and news vans congested the parking lot. I didn’t see the brown Honda anymore.
I double-parked, jumped out of the car, and ran to the building, scanning frantically for Gabby or Mortensen. The media was everywhere, reporters interviewing activists and video camera operators filming the demonstration. The noise was deafening, and many of the protesters had bullhorns. I spotted my parents on the far side of the throng, my father head and shoulders above the crowd. I hadn’t expected them here and it was too loud to call to them. Employees filled the office windows, watching what was going on. Uniformed security guards stood in groups, nervously eyeing the situation.
“Excuse me, it’s an emergency,” I shouted, threading my way through the noisy crowd to the building. Gabby had to be inside already. I had to get to her. The press conference would soon be underway. I couldn’t call her because I’d left my phone in the car in my panic.
I made my way to the propped-open door and ran down a large hallway. The outside noise reverberated throughout the building. The press conference was being held in the conference room where we’d met with defense counsel to present the Complaint.
I ran there and flung open the door. The conference room was empty. They must have changed the room. Gabby must have been surprised by the crowd size, too.
I ran back down the hall. I didn’t know my way around. The entire first floor was spaces for rent, a warren of empty offices and unsigned halls. I ran down one hallway, then the next, but there was no one around. Finally I spotted our lead plaintiff, Chuck Whitman, sitting alone in a folding chair.
“Chuck, where’s Gabby?” I asked, reaching him, breathless.
“Hey, TJ, calm down. She’s looking for you. We got time. They put a delay on the press conference. Everybody turned out, and they gotta find us a bigger room.” He chuckled. “They neversawso many Black people out here. They called the cops.”
“But where’s Gabby? It’s an emergency.”
Chuck’s smile vanished. “She’s gonna make an announcement about the delay. She’s outside. That way.” He pointed to the left.
I ran down the hall toward another exit door on the west side of the building. It was glass, and I could see the crowd outside, facing the building and flooding the sidewalk. Everybody held up phones. Reporters raised cameras.
Gabby had to be right outside. I raced to the door and pressed the handle, but it was locked.
“Open the door!” I shouted, but nobody heard. I jiggled the door again and again. Nobody noticed. There had to be another way out. There was a hallway to my right and to my left. I sensed the one on the right led to an exit.
I turned around just in time to see a man in a black ball cap and sunglasses.
Aiming a gun with a silencer at me.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Crak!The man fired the gun, the suppressed shot too quiet to be heard over the roar.
I sprang aside. The bullet whizzed hot past my head.
I felt a bolt of sheer terror. I took off racing down the hall. There was nothing except a line of closed doors. I ran to the first one on the right. I tried the door. It was locked.
Crak!The man fired as he reached the hall. I flattened against the door, which was recessed. He missed again.
The door across the hall was frosted glass. I launched myself at the glass, breaking through. Shards flew everywhere.
Crak!The bullet whizzed by the room.
I fell inside amid the shards. It was a break room with vending machines but no cover. I grabbed a shard, scrambled to my feet, and flattened against the wall out of view.
