Page 33 of Targeted at Christmas

“I’m afraid he’s dead,” Cooper told her, standing upright and removing the disposable glove.

“But why?” Lexi’s eyes watered. “Does this have anything to do with Horace’s murder?” she uttered.

“It’s starting to look that way,” Cooper hated to say, guiding her away from the crime scene. They sat inside his SUV. “Neal Zapponi had been working with the Bureau as a confidential informant. He helped make the case against Eckhart. After his death, Zapponi wanted out of our arrangement—concerned for his safety—and was granted this.” Cooper sighed. “Then he called me today and asked to meet here with some new info relevant to the case… He never got to say what that was.”

Lexi stared at him, digesting this. “You think that Neal discovered who may have been responsible for Horace’s death?”

“That’s a good possibility.” Cooper clenched his jaw. “Only someone was set on making sure that never came out.”

Lexi breathed out her nose. “I may know who that is—”

He fixed her face. “Tell me.”

She sighed again. “After I arrived, I heard a car starting… Then I saw it as it sped away from the scene—having parked in a different location from where our cars are.”

“You recognized the car?” Cooper asked keenly.

She nodded. “It was a gray Lexus TX 350. The same type of SUV driven by Terry Morikawa, the project manager for the Kenniston Group real estate development company.”

Cooper met her eyes. “Did you see the driver’s face?”

Taking another breath, Lexi answered matter-of-factly, “I barely got a glimpse of him, as the car moved away too quickly. But it did appear to be Terry behind the wheel.”

Cooper let that sink in as the police arrived, along with an Emergency Medical Services SUV.

WHEN HALLIE HEARD from dispatch that a male had been fatally shot at a construction site on North Tatum Boulevard, she headed straight to the scene. Was this a random act? Or could it be tied in any way to the execution-style murder of Horace Eckhart? Either way was troubling to her, to say the least.

Arriving at the site, Hallie left her vehicle and took a look at the victim—identified as forty-five-year-old contractor Neal Zapponi. He had been shot twice in the head, apparently at close range, in a manner eerily reminiscent of Eckhart’s killing. The similarities are too much to dismiss as entirely coincidental, Hallie told herself. That included the fact that the victim’s wallet was missing—evidently stolen by his assailant. She conferred with officers on the scene, along with forensic investigators from the Crime Scene Response Unit, who had collected spent shell casings near the deceased as evidence in the homicide.

Hallie then spoke to the EMS worker who had officially pronounced Zapponi as deceased, before she headed over to Cooper Reid. He was standing next to his SUV with an attractive Hispanic woman.

“Hey,” Hallie said in a muted tone to the special agent, and then eyed the female beside him.

“Hey,” Cooper responded flatly. “This is Lexi De La Garza.”

“Detective Flores,” she introduced herself.

Lexi said to her uneasily, “Hi.”

Cooper said, “Lexi’s an architect. She’s the one who discovered Zapponi’s body.”

“Oh?” Hallie met her gaze with curiosity, while assuming that she was at the site to survey and perhaps meet with the decedent. “Did you come here to see him?”

“Yes,” Lexi answered. “We were going to go over the progress of the project. I thought I would get here early to look around myself.” She frowned. “But then… I saw Neal…and called 911—”

While Hallie considered this, Cooper told her informatively, “Zapponi was my CI. Or at least he was during the investigation of Horace Eckhart. After Eckhart’s death, Zapponi wanted out of it, and it stayed that way—till he asked me to meet him here today regarding some new intel he had.”

“Did he say what it was?” Hallie gazed at the special agent while pondering his association with Zapponi as a confidential human source.

“Afraid not,” Cooper replied. “He didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. Before I could get to him, someone took out Zapponi—apparently just before Lexi arrived.”

“Hmm.” Hallie regarded her, feeling thankful that she, too, hadn’t been killed. “Did you see anything…or anyone?”

Lexi glanced at Cooper and back, then answered bluntly, “I saw a gray Lexus TX 350 drive away from the scene.”

“Really?” Hallie raised a brow. “Did the driver see you?”

“I’m not sure,” Lexi indicated in an unsteady voice. “I don’t think so. He seemed in too much of a hurry to get away.”