search warrant for the Lincoln residence. The thought of digging through the private affairs of his friends nauseated him, but he shook it off and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand.
Hank ducked back into the front seat of the car and opened the glove compartment. An iPhone sat on top of a stack of papers. He turned it on and a picture of Annie appeared. It was Jake’s cell phone.
He checked the recent calls, squinting at the last inbound number. Jake had received a phone call from Merrilla Overstone at 9:03 that morning. That had to be when he’d arranged to meet her.
Hank leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. The evidence against Jake was mounting. Rather than coming up with something that would exonerate his friend, all he’d found was more damning evidence.
He wondered if it was really true. Was the friend he’d known for so many years nothing but a thief and a murderer? The thought was ridiculous.
The trunk slammed and Hank opened his eyes as King approached the side of the vehicle. “Nothing in the trunk, Hank,” he said. “Just a spare tire.”
Hank nodded. “Nothing else in the back?”
King reached into the backseat and removed a sports bag. “A couple of sandwiches and some water in here.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope.”
Hank sighed and stepped from the vehicle. “All right. Let’s get this car towed in.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Then we’ll organize a manhunt and find Jake.”
King crossed his arms and frowned at Hank. “This is hard on you, isn’t it, Hank?”
Hank nodded. He wasn’t sure if he was angry with his friend, or disappointed. Maybe both. And perhaps heartbroken about the whole thing. Whatever it was, he had a job to do, and friend or not, he had to bring Jake in.
King glanced around, then spoke again. “I find it hard to believe, too, Hank. If there’s another answer, we’ll find it.”
Although King didn’t seem deeply affected personally by the ongoing revelations, at least he appeared to have a heart somewhere under that tough skin of his.
Hank glanced over as the Channel 7 Action News van pulled up behind his car. Somehow Lisa Krunk had managed to track him down, and he had no chance of escape this time. He had to stay here until Annie’s car was towed into the police impound lot.
He watched in disgust as Lisa climbed from the passenger seat. Her driver and cameraman, Don, opened the rear door and removed his camera, dropping it on his shoulder.
Hank’d had a lot of run-ins with Lisa in the past, some good, mostly bad, and he knew the pushy newswoman would do anything for a story. Her brand of sensational journalism was well known throughout the precinct, and she was never content until she could spin a story to her liking.
Lisa’s extra-wide mouth was twisted into a smile as she approached the cops. She wore an unbecoming floppy red hat, her short dark hair barely reaching her ears.
“Good afternoon, Hank,” she said, looking down her long thin nose at him, her microphone stuck in his face. “Can you tell me anything about what happened on Mulberry Lane?”
Hank strove to remain patient and glanced at the red light on the camera, then spoke into the mike. “There was a shooting at the residence, and it’s an ongoing investigation.”
“Do you have a suspect?” Lisa asked.
Hank hesitated. “The assailant had left the scene before we arrived. We’re looking at a number of people, but I can’t tell you more than that.”
Lisa glanced at the Toyota. “Is this the suspect’s vehicle?”
Annie and Lisa were well acquainted—not friends, but they’d had occasion to meet many times in the past. Had this been Annie’s old Escort, Lisa would likely have recognized it. But Hank didn’t want to mention Jake and Annie’s names. At least, not yet.
“This vehicle might or might not have been involved. We don’t know for sure,” he said.
Lisa persisted. “Can you give me the name of the
Hank ducked back into the front seat of the car and opened the glove compartment. An iPhone sat on top of a stack of papers. He turned it on and a picture of Annie appeared. It was Jake’s cell phone.
He checked the recent calls, squinting at the last inbound number. Jake had received a phone call from Merrilla Overstone at 9:03 that morning. That had to be when he’d arranged to meet her.
Hank leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. The evidence against Jake was mounting. Rather than coming up with something that would exonerate his friend, all he’d found was more damning evidence.
He wondered if it was really true. Was the friend he’d known for so many years nothing but a thief and a murderer? The thought was ridiculous.
The trunk slammed and Hank opened his eyes as King approached the side of the vehicle. “Nothing in the trunk, Hank,” he said. “Just a spare tire.”
Hank nodded. “Nothing else in the back?”
King reached into the backseat and removed a sports bag. “A couple of sandwiches and some water in here.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope.”
Hank sighed and stepped from the vehicle. “All right. Let’s get this car towed in.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Then we’ll organize a manhunt and find Jake.”
King crossed his arms and frowned at Hank. “This is hard on you, isn’t it, Hank?”
Hank nodded. He wasn’t sure if he was angry with his friend, or disappointed. Maybe both. And perhaps heartbroken about the whole thing. Whatever it was, he had a job to do, and friend or not, he had to bring Jake in.
King glanced around, then spoke again. “I find it hard to believe, too, Hank. If there’s another answer, we’ll find it.”
Although King didn’t seem deeply affected personally by the ongoing revelations, at least he appeared to have a heart somewhere under that tough skin of his.
Hank glanced over as the Channel 7 Action News van pulled up behind his car. Somehow Lisa Krunk had managed to track him down, and he had no chance of escape this time. He had to stay here until Annie’s car was towed into the police impound lot.
He watched in disgust as Lisa climbed from the passenger seat. Her driver and cameraman, Don, opened the rear door and removed his camera, dropping it on his shoulder.
Hank’d had a lot of run-ins with Lisa in the past, some good, mostly bad, and he knew the pushy newswoman would do anything for a story. Her brand of sensational journalism was well known throughout the precinct, and she was never content until she could spin a story to her liking.
Lisa’s extra-wide mouth was twisted into a smile as she approached the cops. She wore an unbecoming floppy red hat, her short dark hair barely reaching her ears.
“Good afternoon, Hank,” she said, looking down her long thin nose at him, her microphone stuck in his face. “Can you tell me anything about what happened on Mulberry Lane?”
Hank strove to remain patient and glanced at the red light on the camera, then spoke into the mike. “There was a shooting at the residence, and it’s an ongoing investigation.”
“Do you have a suspect?” Lisa asked.
Hank hesitated. “The assailant had left the scene before we arrived. We’re looking at a number of people, but I can’t tell you more than that.”
Lisa glanced at the Toyota. “Is this the suspect’s vehicle?”
Annie and Lisa were well acquainted—not friends, but they’d had occasion to meet many times in the past. Had this been Annie’s old Escort, Lisa would likely have recognized it. But Hank didn’t want to mention Jake and Annie’s names. At least, not yet.
“This vehicle might or might not have been involved. We don’t know for sure,” he said.
Lisa persisted. “Can you give me the name of the
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