White Night

Chapter 18

A vehicle turned into the alley." Connors' voice cracked.

"Mr. Redgrave's vehicle?" Radler asked.

"Yes."

"How did you know it was him?"

"The vehicle was the same make and model as his."

A late model two-door sedan with a cracked windshield and expensive rims. There was no screeching of tires or revving of the engine when he turned into the alley. The car glided along silently like a shark in dark water.

"What happened next?"

"He accelerated."

Her palms were already sweating as Radler made her stand in front of that car again.

"Couldn't you run?"

She swallowed her despair at the question. Could he possibly think she wouldn't have run if it were an option?

"No. I was more than halfway down the alley; there wasn't time."

"So the car was accelerating toward you. You were sure it was him?"

"Yes. I could see his face. Blond hair and blue eyes."

Bright yellow hair and violent blue eyes that locked on her as the engine started to scream. The suspect had known who she was. She'd interviewed him several times before they'd found the evidence they needed for the warrant.

"What did you do?"

"I raised my weapon and ordered him to stop."

"Was your finger on the trigger?"

A loaded question. Training dictated that your finger never went to the trigger unless you were prepared to fire. Chasing suspects through the city streets with your finger on the trigger was the stuff of movies. No real cop risked sending a bullet from their weapon at 1,700 miles an hour into innocent bystanders. You waited until the target is in your sights, and then only in that moment, where you were prepared to take a life, did you slide your finger inside the trigger guard and pray you didn't have to.

Radler was still awaiting her answer. She stopped herself looking across the table at Sempler, a nervous gesture that would trash her credibility.

"Yes, my finger was on the trigger."

"You knew he wasn't going to stop?"

Connors nodded and looked at the floor. She'd known he wouldn't stop but she still had to shout the command. Her eyes were pricking as she fought to follow her lawyer's instructions. No emotion, no body language cues, just the facts.

"So you fired?" Radler enticed.

"No. You don't shoot at a moving car even if it's coming at you."

"Why not?"

"It's not effective. The car keeps coming anyway."

"So what do you do?"

"Get out the way, then pursue."

"But you didn't?"

She'd known as soon as his car turned into the alley that she was in serious trouble. Her blood froze in her veins when she saw a thin smile spreading across the suspect's face as he recognized her.

"No, the suspect started firing." Her mouth was drying out quickly, but even a request for water would be added to the record and dissected in court as a sure sign of dishonesty.