Page 62 of Killer Clone

The corner of River Street and Fourth Avenue. A slice of Fifth Avenue North. A chunk of Commerce Street. One security camera showed vehicles turning in and out of the south side of the alley. This was the feed that had given them Otto Walker’s green Nissan.

But the shooter had fled out of the north side of the alley, where there was no surveillance.

All the screens looked essentially the same. In the lenses of the security cameras, the early streetlights glowed a garish white. Backs of vehicles heading south on Fourth Street built patterns of red dots. Bright beams of headlights glowed on Third.

There were more than a few white vehicles in the area right after the shooting. When one of them had a license plate that was visible, he took a note of it, even if it wasn’t a truck or SUV.But some of them he couldn’t see. His list of white vehicles was growing.

Stella sat next to Hagen in the office. She’d arrived home before him last night and had greeted him with the kind of flying hug usually reserved for soldiers returning from a long foreign posting.

Hagen hadn’t been too surprised. He’d been in an alley where someone had taken a potshot, missed, and run away. It wasn’t the first time he’d been shot at, and he doubted it would be the last.

But this was the first time he’d been shot at and then come home to someone who cared. The embrace she’d greeted him with, the relief he’d seen in her eyes, made him feel loved. But he worried now how Stella would react the next time someone aimed a gun in his direction.

Hagen was starting to understand that to put himself at risk was to hurt and worry Stella. That weight on his back was new.

As for the risks she took…he tried not to think about them and was mostly successful.

Stella tapped a box in the bottom left corner of the screen, where a white van lumbered past. “Roll that one back. How come Ander isn’t in yet?”

Hagen selected the box, and it filled the screen. He slid the counter to the right. The van rolled backward as though yanked by a tow chain. The plate wasn’t visible. Hagen minimized the screen and let the other windows run before checking his watch.

“Don’t know. Not like Ander to be late. Trouble getting the kid off to daycare, maybe.”

The office door opened, and Ander bustled in. His cheeks were red, his hair still damp. Instead of falling in tight ringlets to his collar, his curls stuck to the side of his neck. He looked like a collie who’d been out in the rain too long.

“Sorry. Slade isn’t in yet, is he?”

“Yeah. He’s asked about you twice.”

Ander blanched.

Stella let him off the hook. “He didn’t say anything. I don’t think he noticed.”

“Oh, I’m sure he noticed. He’ll say something. And just when I think I’ve gotten away with it.”

“What kept you? You’re not usually late.”

Ander dropped his coat over the back of his chair. He dragged the chair next to Hagen, pulled a health bar out of his coat pocket, and tore off the wrapper with his teeth. “Overslept. Didn’t even have time for breakfast.”

“Seriously? What are you, a teenager?”

Ander pulled his damp hair away from his neck. “I wish. Up late last night talking with Alessandra. She’s not used to me getting shot at.”

“You should’ve told her they were shooting at me.”

“I tried. Figured she wouldn’t care as much if you got shot. Didn’t work. We were both there. She didn’t take it well.”

Stella nodded. “Give her time.”

“Yeah.” Ander didn’t look optimistic. He nodded toward the screen. “Found anything?”

Hagen watched a dolphin-gray Porsche edge out of the frame. “No, nothing. The end of the north side of the alley is basically a security blind spot. And we don’t even know what kind of vehicle he was driving.”

Stella sat up. “Stacy and I spoke to Fett yesterday at the soup kitchen. He said he saw a white Toyota truck.”

Hagen waved at the screen. “If it’s a white, silver, or tan vehicle, I’m marking it down. But, all told, there’s no sign of him.”

“Smart guy. So this wasn’t random. It wasn’t some drugged-up kid taking a potshot at law enforcement. He’s figured this out.”

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