Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [119]
“Maybe his mother’s unexpected appearance saved her,” Carina said.
“You’re probably right.”
“But what is he doing now? Why La Jolla?”
“He’s going to try to find Elizabeth. I’ve been reading his e-mail messages and I believe he knows she’s in Atlanta. Though she never said it outright, the pieces are all there and Brandon Burns is a smart kid.”
“Let’s get security at the airport.”
“Already done.”
“Then why is he going to La Jolla?”
Kyle spoke up from the backseat. “He’s going to steal money from the Shack.”
Carina glanced in the rearview mirror. “You think?”
Kyle nodded, his expression pained.
“Dillon, I have Brandon’s brother, Kyle Burns, with me. He thinks Brandon is headed for the Shack to grab some cash.”
“If he didn’t have money at his house, that’s logical.”
As Dillon spoke, Brandon turned onto the coastal highway. In the direction of the Shack.
“Is Patrick with you?” she asked.
“Right here,” Patrick said over the radio.
“I need all units at the Shack. Code Two. Call them and tell them to lock the doors now. Make something up, don’t panic them, but tell them not to let anyone, even someone they know, inside.”
“Hold.”
“Sunday at noon. The beach is packed.” Kyle said.
“I know,” Carina said, frustrated.
She couldn’t wait indefinitely, and she couldn’t allow Brandon Burns to take an entire restaurant hostage. She didn’t know if he was armed, but she had to assume he was.
A family started into the street right in front of her car and she slammed on her brakes. The father slammed a fist on her hood. “Stupid bitch!”
She flashed her badge out the window. “Move it!”
They did. But when they reached the Shack lot, Burns was already making his way to the entrance. The area was crowded with people, tourists, college students. She couldn’t drive fast enough. She watched as Burns opened the door of the restaurant and entered.
“Patrick, he’s in. Did you get through to the folks at the Sand Shack?”
“No, I hung up when you said he’s in. I didn’t want to panic them.”
“I’m going after him.”
“Not without backup. Three units are less than two minutes away.”
“Roger. Out.”
Brandon might remember her, even though he’d only seen her once. But she’d be in civilian clothes—a T-shirt and slacks. She always wore her hair back on duty.
She had an idea.
She pulled into the parking lot and reached into the glove compartment for scissors. She cut her pants high on the thigh, contorting her body to make it all the way around.
“What are you doing?” Kyle asked.
“Going undercover,” she replied.
She shrugged out of her light jacket and took off her holster, pulled the fanny pack from under her seat. She didn’t like wearing it, but it had a built-in holster. It also doubled as an accessory—it wasn’t unusual to see people walking around with fanny packs instead of purses, especially on campus or the beach. She pulled out her T-shirt and tied a knot under her breasts, let her hair down and fluffed it up as if it were windblown, then she called dispatch and told them her plan.
Patrick got on the radio. “Dammit, Carina, don’t go in there alone! Burns has nothing to lose.”
“There are two patrols in the lot. I’m going to brief them and have them cover both entrances. They’re uniforms, they can’t come in with me. I’ll be a civilian. Play the situation as I see it. Have the SWAT team cover the two entrances. I can’t let him take a hostage.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m going in.”
“I’m coming with you.” Kyle reached for the door, which was locked.
“No,” she said.
“He’s my brother. I can talk him out of whatever he has planned. Please let me help.”
She looked at Kyle. When she agreed to let him come out to the Burns house, she hadn’t believed he was one hundred percent innocent. How had he not seen what his brother was capable of? But now, his eyes, his expression, his demeanor, everything told her he was sincere.
She couldn’t help but be cautious. Kyle might know more about his brother’s activities than he let on.
Yet he might very well be the ace in the hole she needed to get everyone out of the restaurant to safety.