Killer Summer

41

Walt clambered over the logs, already on the radio trying to identify possible high-stakes, south valley robbery targets.

The first thing that came to mind was the cache of arms and vehicles housed at the National Guard Armory. Every kind of weapon, half a dozen Hummers, the theft could be catastrophic. There were other prizes locally as well: art collections, famous and wealthy kidnapping targets. When he looked at the valley from that point of view, he was all the more aware of how vulnerable it was to an organized attack like this one. The thought drove him over the final log all that much faster.

It was then, through the obnoxious beeping of car horns, that he heard someone falling and cursing behind him, someone following him over the logs. He turned, prepared to give Brandon an earful.

Fiona stared back at him, holding her black dress well above her knees. She released the dress’s hem, and it fell.

“I told you,” she said.

You can’t be here,” Walt said from the driver’s seat of a Toyota Prius he had commandeered. Thankfully, the driver hadn’t put up a fight.

“But I am, so live with it.”

“You’re a civilian. I’m dropping you off in town.”

“No, you’re not. I was the one who figured this out. You obviously need me.”

He smirked, resenting that she could win this from him.

“I also happen to be a woman,” she said, “which is something that has apparently escaped your attention. If you take custody of this runaway, then you’re going to need a woman as part of your team.”

“How can you possibly know-?” He cut himself off, answering himself. “Myra.”

“No, it wasn’t Myra,” she said. “I may have run into Chuck Webb, but I’m not saying I did.”

“I can’t deal with Kevin or the girl… not now.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“You followed me.”

“You really are a brilliant investigator.”

“Why would you follow me?” he said.

“You ask too many questions.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m conflicted,” she said.

“What does that mean?”

“Some detective you are.”