The Competition - [33]

19

Bonnie swayed, and I reached out and grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. She put a hand to her chest and struggled to catch her breath as I settled her on the sofa. After a few moments, she recovered enough to argue that a friend had to have left the ammunition. It couldn’t be Logan’s.

There was no honest answer I could give that she’d want to hear. I asked the uni to get her a glass of water, then excused myself and went out to the front porch, where Bailey was waiting.

Bailey held up her cell. “I’m waiting for a callback from the duty judge.”

A judge who could approve a telephonic search warrant. Even if Bonnie gave us consent to search the rest of the house, there was no way Brad would and there was no point in taking even a minimal legal risk. We had plenty of probable cause for a search warrant, and getting a telephonic warrant would save time.

“Just loose ammo?” I asked. “Or did you find a magazine?”

“Just the ammo. But it’s the same make and caliber as the ammo for the AK that jammed.”

The gun wielded by the taller shooter, who was looking more and more like Logan Jarvis. “Anything else in the bedroom?”

“A notebook. I left it in the room for now.”

I nodded. We’d gotten consent to do the search, and the ammunition was a no-brainer. But the notebook or the laptop, which might have the most incriminating information, could get thrown out by a softheaded judge.

Bailey’s cell rang. She gestured to me that it was the duty judge and told him she was going to conference me in. I joined the call and we made our spiel. Five minutes later, we had our search warrant. Before we ended the call, the judge asked, “When are you going to go public about the gunmen being at large? Because I can promise you, the press is not going to miss all those cops piling up at the Jarvis residence.”

“Yeah,” I said. “We’ve got no choice. We’ll have to do the release now.”

We ended the call, and Bailey punched another number on her cell. “I’ll tell Graden so he can get the chief ready to call a press conference. You’d better call your people.”

I hoped I could avoid Vanderhorn and get away with just talking to Eric. If I had to go in and brief Mr. Potato Head, I probably wouldn’t get back to the Jarvis house before midnight. I punched in the number and crossed my fingers. “Hey, Melia, it’s Rachel. Is Eric in? It’s urgent.”

“Sure, Rache! What’s going on?”

So I’m “Rache” now. Me and Melia, we’re totes BFFs. “Uh, I can’t really talk-”

“Oh, sure, right. Hang on. He’s on a call, but I’ll see if I can get him.”

A few seconds later, Eric came on the line. I brought him up to speed. “I’m guessing the chief will say the killers are still out there, but he’ll play it safe with Logan for now and just say he’s a ‘person of interest.’”

“Holy shit, Rachel. This is huge. But no release on your possible second shooter, Barney…something-”

“Otis Barney. No. We don’t have enough yet. But we’re closing in on it.” An unmarked car pulled up, and three detectives I recognized from Robbery-Homicide got out and headed for the house. We exchanged nods as I pushed open the door for them.

“Vanderhorn’s going to want to put out his own statement, so he’ll want to see you.”

“I can’t, Eric. We’re serving the warrant right now and I’ve got to be around in case they find something that needs follow-up. We’ve got two killers out there; I don’t have time to spoon-feed the-”

“Stop. From now on watch what you say on your cell. You know these things aren’t secure. I’ll try to take care of him myself, but stand by.”

I thanked him profusely. “I owe you big-time.”

“Yeah, you really do.”

Another unmarked car and a couple of patrol cars had arrived by the time I ended the call.

I found Bailey in Logan’s bedroom, where she was talking to the search team. The room hadn’t felt small when it’d just been Bailey, Bonnie Jarvis, and me. But with two detectives and three unis, it felt like a closet. Bailey gave them the list of what they could seize. It allowed just about everything-including the kitchen sink if it showed signs of recent use by Logan. “And remember to take a couple of his coats. Check the hall closet as well as this one.”

We could use Logan’s coats to see if the size matched the larger of the two camouflage jackets found in the Dumpster outside the school cafeteria. The officers got to work.

“We’ve got three more detectives on the way to handle the upstairs,” Bailey said.

“We’re not waiting for Dorian?” I asked.

“We really can’t-”

“I get it. I just want it on record that I was the one who said we should wait.”

Dorian would hit the roof when she saw the cops pawing through the house before she could process it. It wouldn’t matter to her that they were all gloved and bootied up. She trusted no one but herself. Bailey made a face. “Heartwarming the way you always have my back, Knight.”

“And how many times have you thrown me under the Dorian bus to save yourself?” I asked. Bailey answered by turning a stony face toward the sliding glass door. “Exactly.”

I noticed that the buff detective in the tweed jacket had a spiral notebook opened on the desk. “Is that the one you saw?” I asked Bailey. She nodded. I clasped my hands behind my back to make sure I didn’t touch anything and moved in next to him to see what was written in it. Drawings of sunsets and hearts with a name interwoven through them-I looked more closely and made out the name. “Amanda?” The detective nodded. “See anything related to the shooting yet?”