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“I’d—”
“Detective Fletcher and I are the primary detectives on a case that hits too close to home. To lose any innocent member of our society is a tragedy, but to lose one of our own? A cop? And in this case,threecops?” He shakes his head. “It’s too much. And as such, we’ve formed a task force that will ensure we work faster. It’ll ensure we work with clear minds.Thatis what will lead us to an arrest quicker.”
Tiffany Hewitt, a different,betterreporter, lifts her hand and waits to be selected to speak. “Detective Malone. Have you profiled your killer to come up with atype? Someone the public should keep their eye out for?”
“Yes. We’re searching for a male. Thirty-five to forty-five years old. We consider this person very well connected to the black market that deals in firearms. We’re searching for a person known to the police already. Not only that, but known to the victims personally.”
Instantly, a dozen or more hands shoot into the air.
“So this person has a rap sheet already?”
“Your suspect is someone your victims already arrested?”
“If you know who did this, why aren’t they behind bars already?”
“Should the general public be afraid of being shot while they walk the street?”
“The general public has nothing to be concerned about.” He raises his hand and works to silence the crowd. “We consider these shootings to be targeted and intentional.”
“Of course they’re intentional! Someone went out that day with a gun and pulled the trigger.”
“What I mean by intentional,” he clarifies, “is that our shooter had his targets in mind already. These were not random hits. We believe our victims had knowledge of certain criminal factions, and so they were silenced.”
“All cops have information about crime factions! Are you not all at risk?”
“This particular faction, I believe, is searching for power and a leadership role over this city. To take control of a city, means to control everyone in it. Detectives Wright, Mercer, and Haightman possessed information that created a weakness within those ranks. And thus, right or wrong, were eliminated.”
“This sounds like the mafia!” Miranda snaps back, silencing the crowd and commanding her spotlight. “You sayleadership of a city, and my mind moves in a certain, very specific direction.” Her eyes alight with smugness when Archer’s jaw grows tighter. “Does that not sound familiar to you, Detective Malone?”
“Okay, I see why you hate the bitch now.” Felix’s voice comes out in a venomous growl. He looks at Micah, “Miranda London. Let’s look intothatand make her a little less comfortable.”
A small smile rolls onto my lips.Oh dear. Poor Miranda.
“Will you share if you have a suspect in mind?” Maybe Tiffany Hewitt knowsMaloneandmafiaare connected, or perhaps she sees her opportunity to speak up while the crowd is quiet. But she raises her hand again and has cameras panning her way. “You seem to have a pretty clear understanding of who is behind this. Is it speculation, Detective Malone? Are you close to making an arrest?”
“My team is working around the clock to find answers,” he answers instead. “Each of our victims, outside of police work, had lives. Large, meaningful, fulfilling lives that have now been cut short by someone else’s hand. I believe I know who did this. It’s my job to prove it.”
“Oh shit.” I bounce my feet to work through nerves as a hundred new questions are lobbed at the detectives.Who did it? Why do you think it was that person? Why haven’t you arrested that person yet? Why leave them on the street and risk another dead cop? Are you at risk? You’re a cop.“What’s he doing?” I murmur. Bouncing. Bouncing. Bouncing my foot. “Why is he saying that?”
“I believe our perpetrator is another cop.” Archer broadens his shoulders when his crowd explodes. “Current, active duty. And I believe ourperpetrator was a cop who worked on the same squads as our victims. I believe this cop to be here, right now, tonight.”
He stares down the barrel of the camera. “I believe this cop will attempt to silence me and my partner, the way he silenced Mercer, Wright, and Haightman. I will not stand down until our shooter is behind bars. And I will not be afraid, though I know this is his intention. Scare the police force and ensure a smooth ride into power. I won’t allow it.”
“Fuckkkkk…” Micah spins away from Tiia while on the screen, Archer moves almost exactly the same way. He turns from the podium while reporters scream for more. More information. More bombshells. More juicy tidbits. Micah scrubs his face with his palms, while Archer places himself in front of Fifi. In front of Fletch. Even in front of the mayor. He’s not wearing a vest, and even if he was, it wouldn’t save his life.
“Go inside,” I chant, bouncing my knees and pressing my hands together in prayer. “Go inside, Archer. Go inside.”
“He just made himself public enemy number one,” Micah snarls. “He knows that, right?” He stalks around to stand between me and the image of a podium left unattended. A microphone still on, though no one uses it. “Archer just set himself up to be the next target.”
“He challenged the killer to give it a try.” Cato leans around Micah to see the screen, just in case. “He said, ‘Stop going for the others. Come for me. I’m ready.’”
“He’s such a dick.” I explode from my chair and stalk around, unlocking my phone and using every scrap of willpower I possess not to call him. Because he needs to focus on the world around him. Not on the fit I want to pitch. Tapping the screen, I type:I saw that, Archer Malone! We all did. You’re trying to piss everyone off and trick your shooter into making a move. The fact that you sent Cato to New York proves you knowingly put yourself in danger.
I hit send and spin back to the television, watching in live time as he feels the vibration. Then, as he dips a hand into his pocket while with the other leads the mayor toward the precinct’s front doors, he drags the phone free and reads just the locked screen.
He’s already fifteen feet from the podium. A distance from the cameras that makes it harder to see the definition of his face. But I catch his upturned smile. The glint in his eyes as he turns back and gives the cameras one last view.
My name is Archer Malone, and I piss people off like it’s a sport.
