3
Kevin!” But with the doors shut and the windows up, he wouldn’t hear her whispered shout. She should have lied and said the place was covered in cameras. “You’re not even wearing a vest, you moron.”
Izzy sat still for a brief second, muttering under her breath before grabbing her phone and calling for discreet backup. She provided her badge number first. “I don’t know the situation inside the building. I know they’re armed. Come in quiet. I’m dressed as a civilian in jeans, a gray sweatshirt, and black running shoes. I have on a shoulder holster and am armed. For goodness’ sake, don’t shoot me.” Because she wasn’t wearing a vest either. She hadn’t known she was going to need one. She also gave Kevin’s description. “Don’t shoot him either, okay?”
Once she had it confirmed that officers were on the way and they’d been informed of their plainclothes status, she quickly grabbed her weapon, checked it, and went after Kevin. No matter that she was furious with him for his renegade actions, she wouldn’t let him go in alone and unprotected.
He was just outside the warehouse door. She ran in a low crouch to the green Tahoe and hid behind it, glancing around the side to see Kevin with his back to the wall of the warehouse, next to the open door.
He held his weapon ready, even as he caught her eye and lifted a finger to his lips. She widened her eyes and jerked her head, motioning for him to get away from the door and join her. He shook his head and Izzy wanted to smack him. Hard.
He rounded the sliding metal door and disappeared into the interior of the warehouse.
Silence reigned.
Izzy looked back over her shoulder and prayed the others would get here soon. Until then . . .
She drew in a deep breath and jogged over to the entrance, taking the spot Kevin had just vacated. She risked a quick glance inside and noted him kneeling behind a pallet piled with boxes.
Just ahead of him were three men, each holding one of the rifles they’d seen carried into the building. They stood facing each other, their focus on checking out the weapons.
As quickly as she dared, she got a good look at the interior of the building. A plain concrete floor. Plenty of unmarked boxes piled on pallets identical to the one that sheltered Kevin. To her right, there were metal steps that led to an indoor balcony on the opposite side. It ran the length of the back wall and was packed with crates as well.
Dirt-encrusted windows kept out the light and would prevent her from seeing in to get a better picture of the interior. And how badly she and Kevin were outnumbered.
She leaned back, trying to decide what to do, when she saw two unmarked cars park across the street from the warehouse. Four detectives headed her way. A rush of relief flowed through her.
Then gunfire from inside the building jerked her back around the corner of the door in time to see Kevin fall to the floor, blood pooling on his chest. One man walked toward Kevin, his weapon held in front of him. “You a cop?”
“Police! Freeze! Drop your weapons!” Izzy yelled. She ducked when his gun spat back at her. She pulled back for cover, then waited for the gunfire to end before she once again peered around the edge of the metal door. The three men she’d seen during her brief peek through the door had scattered, firing in her direction as they ran, their bullets pinging off the walls of the warehouse.
“Kevin!” She grabbed her radio. “Officer down! Officer down!”
Running footsteps sounded behind her and she spared a glance over her shoulder. Their backup had arrived too late.
She checked back on Kevin. He lay still, the pool of blood growing in a widening circle. She looked over her shoulder to see officers decked out in tactical gear taking up positions, making sure they were out of the line of fire.
“Three suspects heading out the back!” She gave the name of the street. “I repeat, cut them off at the ba—”
Two shots came from up above.
Izzy looked up in time to see a body fall over the railing of the balcony. The thud on the concrete floor sounded like another gunshot. And then she caught a brief glimpse of a dark-haired man who was turning sideways and racing out the back door of the balcony to the stairwell. She rushed toward her partner and dropped to her knees. “Kevin!”
His eyes fluttered. He gasped. Sputtered. Blood dribbled from his mouth.
She wiped it with her hand. “No, no, don’t do this.”
He swallowed and whispered something. She pressed one hand to his chest and one to his stomach in a hopeless effort to staunch the flow of blood.
“Phone . . .”
“What?”
“Phone. Look at . . .” His eyes fluttered.
She looked around. There, on the floor, slid halfway under the wooden crate.
“Promise,” he whispered. “Promise . . . look . . . hide it.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I promise.” She grabbed the phone and shoved it into the back pocket of her jeans, not caring about the blood she smeared over it. “Okay, I’ve got it. Okay? Now be quiet and just hang on.”
“Good. Have a . . . good . . . birthday, Iz.”
“Yes. I will. If you’ll go with me, I’ll jump all over that place. We’ll jump together, okay?”
“Tell . . . Ryan . . . Mom . . . sorry . . . was . . . stupid.”
“No. I’m not telling them that. You tell them.”
“Ga-ga-baahhhh . . . ga . . .” He strained, his breathing labored, his eyes wide.
“What? Breathe, Kev, just breathe.”
His eyes closed.
“Kevin!”
Detective Ryan Marshall liked football. Especially Gamecock football. He’d been debating whether to head to Williams-Bryce stadium to watch them scrimmage or go into the office and work when the call came over the radio. “Officer needs assistance. Officer needs backup.” And then the details. Details that included his younger brother’s name and Izzy’s.
He’d grabbed his vest, badge, and gun and bolted from his home to dive into his vehicle. It should have taken him fifteen minutes to arrive to the location. He made it in nine.
Cutting everything off a mile before the specified address, he coasted in behind two unmarked cars. He’d listened to the radio all the way over and knew the situation had gone south fast. Gunshots reported. Officer down. Officer down . . . two words that should never have a reason to be used together.
Kevin was there. As was Izzy. Izzy, with flashing green eyes and dark hair that he’d seen all his life and just noticed in an I’m-interested-in-going-out-with-her kind of way about three months ago. Izzy, who was his brother’s partner and wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Would she?
He threw the vehicle in park and bolted out the door.
“Kevin!”
The raw, grief-ravaged scream nearly halted him in his tracks. “No,” he whispered. “Oh, please, God, not Kevin.” He flashed his badge to the uniformed officers who had arrived on the scene to indicate he was backup. He had the earpiece in to allow him to hear the progress being made in the apprehension of the suspects.
But right now, his only focus was his brother. He dashed inside the warehouse, weapon ready.
Only to skid to a heart-jarring halt when he saw Izzy on the floor, covered in blood and demanding that Kevin breathe.