Page 58 of Long Past Deadly

“Again, let’s investigate San Diego.”

“Next step, then, is to see Frank.”

The afternoon was fading to dark, but if he knew the cop, the man was still at work.

“Let’s get out of here and go find him.”

She turned wide-eyes to him. The last two hours of dumping what she knew had taken it’s toll. “I’m in.”

“When we’re finished at the PD, we’ll go home, eat whatever delicious thing Niles has cooked for dinner, then there’s a bathtub with your name on it.”

She groaned. “I like it.”

Again he took her hand. She didn’t fight it. Progress came in little celebrations.

Chapter Twelve

Frank Walker’s office at police headquarters was a functional and tech-forward space. Alanna could read a lot into his command style and his personality by the ergonomic comfort of his rolling chair, the clean minimalist aesthetic, and the commendations on his wall. His desk suggested his heavy caseload even though the surface was carefully organized.

They left their weapons in the car and jumped past a team of detectives to be shown to his office. Frank stood in his doorway with jeans and a blue shirt, badge and gun, and a frown. “About time we had a sit down.”

Alanna stepped in front of Quaid. She was law enforcement, after all, and this whole mess was about her. “We’re picking up the pieces, and it’s time to share. We need local crime records.”

Frank’s brows rose. “Understood. Did your boss agree to the sharing?”

Alanna struggled with the answer. “I haven’t told him, and won’t until later. We need some help.”

Quaid shook Frank’s hand. “Sorry about dodging you. I’m not an innocent bystander. It’s not what we do.”

“As long as you understand where the business ends and the law needs to take over.”

“I have an FBI agent right here. I’m pretty clear on the parameters.”

“We don’t share well with the FBI.” The dry comment made Alanna grin.

She chose one of the blue visitor’s chairs and sat. “You will this time. Because this guy is federal, military, and local all at the same time.” Quaid stood behind her. “It’s a long story, Frank. Where do you want to start?”

“Our man from last night. Same guy, I presume?”

Quaid placed both hands on the back of her chair and leaned toward Frank. “Yes. But he’s also responsible for the gun incident at QM.”

“Assassin, too. Boy, you two are buckets of fun.”

Alanna pushed aside the FBI agent for the moment and remembered hard days when she was younger. “Are those girls all right?”

“Yes, we got them both to their families and helped get them into the shelter for a few days. Keep them safe. Who is this guy?”

Alanna looked over her shoulder at him, resigned to having to tell the story. “His name is Andres Barton, aka Mercer. I ran into him on the streets when I was living here. I was fifteen.” Frank’s eyebrows rose, but Alanna rushed on. “The man who was my de facto guardian knew him, too. They were military together. Frank, he’s connected to a disappearance from that timeframe. I’d like to find out if the case is in your system.

“Back up. What does this have to do with the shooting in the QM parking lot?” Frank eased into his chair, his sharp eyes studying the two of them.

“He’s trying to draw out Alanna.”

“Why?”

Quaid sighed. “Might be because of that guardian she’s referring to. Our assassin has a complicated, violent military record. Feds want him, Navy Intelligence wants him, QM wants him.”

“And so it’s dumped in my city?”