Time continued to tick by. Four o’clock now, and Colin was getting antsy. He wrestled with the urge to do…
something
. He wondered again whether to call Margolis. Wondered whether to risk a knock at the door. He trusted himself not to overreact. Or mostly did, anyway.
He stayed in the car, taking long, slow breaths, and was startled when his phone dinged. Evan.
What are you doing?
Colin texted back,
Nothing
.
Another hour passed. Five o’clock, with the sun beginning to sink lower, still bright but predicting the gradual onset of dusk. Colin wondered when, or if, the lights would go on inside; since he’d been there, it had become easier to imagine that no one was inside the bungalow at all.
His phone dinged again. Evan. Again.
I’ll be there in a minute
, the text read.
I’m almost at your car.
Colin furrowed his brow, then looked over his shoulder and saw Evan approaching from behind. Evan hopped in and closed the door, then rolled up the window. Colin did the same.
“I knew you’d be here. As soon as I left you, I knew exactly what you intended to do. And then you lie to me in your text? About doing nothing?”
“I wasn’t lying. I’m not doing anything.”
“You came here. You’re watching the house. You’re watching for Lester. That’s something.”
“Not if I haven’t seen him.”
“So what’s the plan now?”
“I’m still working on it,” Colin answered. “How’s Maria?”
“She was asleep on the couch when we got there, but as soon as she woke up, Lily started talking to her about our wedding plans. I figured I might as well check on you, since Lily can talk for hours on that subject…”
At that moment, Colin caught the flash of movement at the front of the bungalow. The door opening. A man beginning to step onto the porch, holding a can of something.
“Get down,” Colin hissed as he quickly lowered himself as well. “And stay down.”
Evan automatically did as he was told. “Why?”
Colin slowly poked his head up without answering, needing a closer look. The man had moved onto the porch, the front door open behind him. Colin peered closer, conjuring up Atkinson’s image. Definitely not him, he decided, and he tried to remember what Maria had said about Lester’s clothing last night.
Faded red shirt and torn jeans?
Yes,
Colin thought.
Same thing the man was wearing now.
Lester?
Had to be, and Colin felt another surge of adrenaline. Lester was at the bungalow. Hadn’t even changed his clothes…
A few seconds later, Lester turned around and walked back inside, the front door closing behind him.
“Is it him?” Evan whispered.
“Yeah,” Colin said. “It’s him.”
“And you’ll call Margolis now, right? Like you said you would?”
“Okay,” Colin said.
On the phone, after cursing Colin roundly for withholding information, Margolis snapped that he was on his way and would be there as soon as he could. No, he’d told them, do not follow Lester, or anyone else for that matter, if they leave the house. Let him handle it, Margolis demanded, and if Colin so much as got out of the car, he’d find a reason to put him in cuffs because he was getting sick and tired of Colin pretending he knew what the hell he was doing. There were a few more choice words as well, and when Colin disconnected the call, Evan looked over at him.
“I warned you that he wasn’t going to be happy,” Evan commented.
“Okay.”
“And you don’t care?”
“Why should I?”
“Because he can make your life even more miserable.”
“Only if I do something that gets me in trouble.”
“Like interfering in police business?”
“I’m sitting in my car. I called him with information he needed. I’m not interfering. I’m a potential witness. He told me what to do, and I’ll do it.”
Evan shifted. “Can I sit up again? I’m getting a cramp.”
“I don’t know why you’re still hunkered down in the first place.”
Forty minutes later, Margolis rolled up to Colin’s car and pulled to a stop, his sedan idling in the road, the passenger window rolled down.
“I thought I told you to get the hell out of here,” Margolis said.
“No,” Colin said, “you didn’t. You told me not to get out of the car or follow him.”
“Are you purposely trying to be a smart-ass?”
“No.”
“Because you sound like a smart-ass. I go out of my way to prevent you from getting arrested last night, and then you ‘forget’ to mention this idea of yours this morning? So you can play Mr. Law Enforcement again?”
“Maria told you that Lester had taken her iPhone. They’re easy to track. I figured that you’d probably looked into it already.”
The expression on Margolis’s face revealed that he’d overlooked the obvious.
Recovering, he snapped, “Believe it or not, my world doesn’t revolve around you and your girlfriend. I have other cases. Big cases. I was getting to it.”
Sure you were
, Colin thought. “Will you get Maria’s phone?”
“If he has it. I have no proof that he does, other than your word.”
“As of a couple of hours ago, it was still there,” Evan interjected. “I checked before I came out here.”
Margolis stared at Evan, his irritation evident, before finally shaking his head.
“I’ll get her phone,” Margolis said. “Now get going. Both of you. I don’t need you here, and I don’t want you here. I’ll take care of it.”
He rolled up the window, released the brake, and let the car drift forward before finally pulling to a stop directly in front of the bungalow. Colin watched as Margolis stepped out and took a moment to survey the place before finally rounding the car and heading up the walkway.
As he climbed the steps to the porch, he turned toward Colin and jerked his thumb, reminding Colin it was time to go.
Fair enough
, Colin thought. The key was still in the ignition and he cranked it, only to hear silence, the engine completely dead. Not even a click. Colin tried again with the same result. Dead.
“Let me guess,” Evan said. “Your car sucks.”
“Today, maybe.”
“Margolis isn’t going to be happy.”
“There’s nothing I can do.”
He was talking to Evan while keeping his attention focused on Margolis, who’d yet to knock at the door. Instead, the detective was at the far end of the porch, peering at the car parked in the drive. When he turned, Colin thought he saw a look of confusion on Margolis’s face as Margolis finally moved to the door. He hesitated before knocking; after a long pause, Margolis reached for the doorknob and turned it, cracking the door slightly.
Someone calling out, saying come in and that the door was open?
Margolis spoke through the crack, then pulled out his badge as he pushed through the already open door, vanishing from sight…
“Let’s go to my car,” Evan said. “We can be gone by the time Margolis gets out. I know he hates you, but I don’t want him to hate you any more than he already does. Or me, for that matter. He looks mean.”
Colin said nothing. Instead, he was thinking about the expression he’d seen on Margolis’s face right before he’d knocked at the door. Margolis had seen something, something that… didn’t make sense? Surprised him? Something he hadn’t expected?
And why would Lester have invited him in if he was paranoid and afraid of the police?
“Something’s wrong,” Colin said, the thought coming automatically, even before he realized he’d said it.
Evan looked over at him. “What are you talking about?” he asked, and in that instant, Colin heard the distinctive pop of gunfire, loud and explosive, two shots in quick succession.
Colin was already reaching for the door when Margolis flew back out of the doorway, his jacket and shirt soaked in blood, his hand on his neck. He stumbled off the porch, falling backward onto the steps and sliding down onto the walkway.
By then, Colin was already out of the car… operating on instinct… running toward Margolis… accelerating with every step… watching Margolis as he writhed on the ground.
Lester stepped onto the porch, screaming incoherently, holding a gun. He raised it, pointing it at Margolis. Lester’s face held both fear and anger, his hand on the gun shaking. Lester screamed again and lowered the gun before raising it once more…
Colin continued his sprint toward the bungalow, cutting across the neighbor’s lawn, hurdling a small bush, closing in on the porch. On
Lester
. Zeroing in. A few more seconds.
Lester continued to aim the gun at Margolis without pulling the trigger. His face was red, his eyes bloodshot.
Out of control.
Screaming at Margolis:
It’s not my fault!
and
I didn’t do anything!
and
I’m not going back to jail!
and
I know what Maria is doing!
Lester approached the porch steps, closing the gap between him and Margolis as he continued to aim the gun, his hand shaking. Taunting. Lester, aware of a blur out of the corner of his eye, suddenly turned, swiveling the gun in Colin’s direction…
Too late.
Colin launched himself over the porch railing, arms wide as he collided hard with Lester. The gun went flying, wheeling end over end and landing on the porch.
Colin outweighed Lester by forty pounds, and he felt Lester’s ribs crack as they hit the ground. Lester screamed in agony, momentarily paralyzed.
Colin moved fast, shifting off of Lester’s body, his arm immediately wrapping around Lester’s throat, then he locked the arm down with the opposite hand. Lester began to thrash and squirm, neck sandwiched between Colin’s biceps and forearm. Colin applied hard pressure to the carotid arteries in a classic choke hold as Lester tried frantically to escape.
Within seconds, Lester’s eyes began to roll back, going white, and all at once he stopped moving.
Colin kept applying the pressure, enough to keep Lester out for more than a few seconds. Then, scrambling to his feet, he rushed to Margolis.
Margolis was still breathing but no longer moving, his face a chalky white, and Colin tried to figure out what he was seeing. He’d been shot twice, in the stomach and the neck, and was losing blood fast.
Colin whipped off his shirt and tore it in half as Evan came running up, looking terrified.
“Holy crap! What do we do?”
“Call 911!” Colin shouted, trying to will his own sense of panic away, knowing that more than ever, he needed to think clearly. “Get an ambulance! Now!”
Colin knew nothing about gunshot wounds, but if Margolis kept losing blood, he had no chance at all. Because the neck wound looked worse, Colin started by applying pressure to Margolis’s neck. Blood began to seep through the torn shirt immediately; he did the same for the stomach wound, where blood was still pulsing, forming a growing puddle beneath the detective.
Margolis’s face began to turn a sickly gray.
He could hear Evan shouting into the phone that a cop had been shot, that they needed an ambulance, now.
“Hurry up, Evan!” Colin shouted. “I need your help!”