The Guilty - Jason Pinter [21]
"So we have some psychopath running around New York
with a high-powered rifle and damn good aim," I said. Binky
rubbed his hands together and nodded.
"Funny thing is," he said, his tone of voice anything but
humorous. In fact, there seemed to be an edge of fear. "I've
worked in the examiner's office nearly twelve years and I don't
recall ever seeing a gunshot wound from that caliber weapon."
"Really," I said, that fear seeping into my veins, too.
"Most GSW victims that end up at the hospital or morgue
are from .22 or .38 caliber bullets. Handguns, stuff you get
on the street. But not this. This is a hard-core rifle, my friend.
Kind you might hunt animals with. Kind of gun you only need
one shot with, 'cause that shot counts."
"No shit," I said.
"None at all. Makes you wonder what kind of psycho this
city's got loose."
"Yeah," I said. "Makes you wonder."
11
I turned my key in the lock, unsure whether I hoped the
apartment would be empty or not. Before I could see the
whole room I smelled perfume and knew Amanda was home.
She was sitting in an armchair reading a book. When she
saw me her eyes picked up and the book clapped shut. She
slowly rose from her chair, came over to me and wrapped me
up in her arms. I laid my head on her shoulder and breathed in.
She looked me in the eyes and said, "If I had to guess, your
day could have gone better."
I nodded. Took my jacket off and tossed it on a chair.
Untied my shoes and kicked them off. Went over to Amanda
and knelt down, put my head against her stomach. Soon I felt
her fingers running through my hair, my scalp tingling as she
pressed harder. I stood up, leaned in and kissed her. At first
she seemed reluctant, then leaned in harder. Her hand was on
the back of my head, pressing my lips against hers. I lost
myself in it, felt her body lean toward me. Then I pulled away.
"What is it?" she said.
I looked at her, embarrassed. "Just hard to see these things
happen. You know, and not be affected at all."
"That cop who was killed?" she said. "Mauser."
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"Yeah. You know he was the one who last year...he almost
killed me."
"I know," Amanda said softly. "He came to my house.
Pointed a gun at you."
"Thing is, I never blamed him," I said. "If I'd been in that
kind of situation, thought someone had murdered my family,
I would have gone just as far as he did."
"Henry..."
"He was a good cop," I said, anger rising. "He didn't
deserve to go down like some animal."
"What do you mean?"
"Whoever shot him, they're some sick bastard."
I took out my cell phone. Dialed Curt Sheffield's number.
"Sheffield," he said.
"Curt, it's Henry Parker."
"Hey, man. Guess this doesn't mean you're hiding under
a rock."
"I don't think I'd fit under a rock right now. Listen, we need
to meet up. I talked to the medical examiner today, I think we
can help each other."
"Name the time and place. But hey, Henry, be careful.
Word's gotten around our friend Paulina Cole's been digging
a little bit, asking questions about Mya Loverne, about your
relationship. Don't know if she's going after you, but nothing
she touches stays clean, know what I'm saying."
I cursed under my breath.
"Screw her," I said.
"I would if my lady wouldn't wear my balls for earrings.
Cole's not a bad-looking older woman. Wonders of Botox, I
guess."
"Yeah, right. I need to know if you've heard anything
about the ballistics analysis. Two deaths from what looks
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Jason Pinter
like sniper attacks, I'm willing to bet my bonus the same
ammo and gun was used in both Mauser and Athena
Paradis's murders."
"Don't be stupid, Henry, you know I can't just give out
information Mayor Perez hasn't declared open for public
consumption."
"Come on, Curt, you know the Dispatch is probably
writing checks right now to cops and anyone else who can
answer that question. Do you really want Paulina Cole and
her BS responsible for the first impression of millions?"
"Watch your damn mouth," Curt said. "Those are my boys
you're