Page 23 of Targeted at Christmas

In Hallie’s mind, the similarities between the two alleged carjackings and the fact that Eckhart’s killers were still at large led her to believe that the unsubs could be one and the same. This possibility notwithstanding, she didn’t reject at all the likelihood that Eckhart’s suspected involvement in public corruption led to his death, as Cooper Reid contended.

On the contrary, Hallie had every reason to think that the carjackers had executed Eckhart in cold blood as hired assassins. And it was all but certainly related to the building inspector’s assumed criminal activities. But that didn’t mean that the carjackers might not have targeted someone else—either related to the Eckhart homicide case or as a separate, unrelated carjacking.

Hallie, who was behind the wheel of her SUV, sighed and said, “It boggles the mind how these people continually see themselves as above the law when deciding to break it.”

Robyn, who sat in the passenger seat, was thirty-five, short and slender, with brown hair in a cropped pixie cut and blue eyes. She responded tonelessly, “Most people who take that path seem convinced that it can be worth their while and they can get away with the crime—till proven otherwise. If that happens to be the case.”

“Let’s hope it turns out that way here,” Hallie said. “And if the perps happen to be the same ones responsible for Horace Eckhart’s murder—and we take them into custody—all the better. Including for the Feds, who will want their crack at them too.”

Robyn ran a hand through her hair. “They’ll have to wait their turn. First, we need to catch the unsubs of the latest carjacking.”

That Hallie agreed with. She increased her speed before they reached the spot where the female victim waited for their arrival.

“Let’s see what she has to say,” Hallie muttered under her breath, after parking. They exited the vehicle and spoke briefly with the first responder, Officer Chad Hassler.

“Looks like a typical carjacking in this city,” he said, yawning.

Robyn told him humorlessly, “Looks can be deceiving.”

Chad nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

“We’ll get back to you on that,” Hallie told him. She and Robyn approached a petite Asian woman in her fifties, with short and feathered brunette hair, wearing round eyeglasses. Hallie asked, “Are you Dora Nguyen?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice quivering.

“I’m Detective Flores and this is Detective Henstridge,” Hallie told her. “You want to tell us what happened?”

Dora sucked in a deep breath and answered, ill at ease, “As I told the officer, after leaving that shop—” she pointed at a boutique “—I was about to get into my car, when two men approached me. They were carrying handguns and demanded I give them my car keys…or they would shoot me…” She drew a breath. “I did as they asked—”

That was a smart choice, Hallie told herself. She gazed at the victim, who looked shaken but otherwise unharmed, but asked to be sure, “Did they hurt you?”

Dora replied, “No. But they took my car—a Genesis GV80 Coupe—and left me without a way to get home.”

“We’ll take care of that,” Robyn assured her. “Can you describe the men who stole your vehicle, ma’am?”

“I never had the chance to get a good look at them,” she responded. “I was too scared. Just average-looking, I think.”

“So, their faces weren’t covered?” Hallie asked.

“No,” Dora told her.

Hmm, that doesn’t stack up to the men who carjacked and murdered Horace Eckhart while wearing ski masks covering their entire faces, Hallie thought. Had they changed their MO for a victim they considered too helpless or frightened to be able to identify them? “Were they wearing gloves?”

“I don’t think so,” Dora replied, giving Hallie reason to believe that the unsubs would leave behind fingerprints once the vehicle was located.

Robyn pressed her for more information on height, hair color, race or ethnicity. All Dora could say was that they were white, taller than her, and she thought that both had dark hair.

“Did they have another vehicle that one or the other drove?” Robyn asked.

Dora shook her head. “They were on foot when approaching me and taking my car.”

Hallie regarded her sympathetically, imagining the trauma she had been through in having guns put to her face. “We’ll do what we can to get your vehicle back,” she promised.

Shortly after they radioed in the info on the stolen luxury SUV, an automated license plate reader spotted the stolen vehicle a few blocks away. A nearby patrol car stopped it and officers placed the two occupants inside under arrest without incident.

Hallie and Robyn instructed Chad to get Dora home safely, and then they drove to the scene where the carjackers were being detained in the back of the white Chevrolet Tahoe patrol car.

It took only one look by Hallie at the slender suspects—one with a brown textured pompadour and the other with a black temple fade haircut—for her to realize, and verified by the arresting officers, that both suspects were juveniles. Neither of them conformed to the surveillance video images of the unsubs who killed Horace Eckhart, then stole his BMW M8 Gran Coupe.