CSU had found the bullet in the wood frame of a doorway in the old factory where Skinner had been abducted Thursday night. Analysis of the blood they’d found on the street would provide certainty that that’s where he’d been shot, but they were already pretty sure. The bullet was a huge find, especially since the killer had taken such pains to remove the bullet from King’s body, cutting him open and sewing him back up.

The bullet had some kind of a mark, a maker’s mark, ballistics had called it. But unfortunately the mark was severely marred, to the point of being unrecognizable.

„You don’t know that, Mia.“ Reagan smoothly parked his monster SUV in the lot of an older-looking gun shop and Mia hopped out.

„You coming, Kristen?“ Mia asked.

Kristen sighed. She’d been everywhere else in the city today. This would be their seventh gun shop. „Why not?“

Reagan shot her a sympathetic look. „I can take you home. Spinnelli should have your shadow assigned by now.“

The thought irked as much as it comforted. Her neighbors were already in a tizzy over having CSU’s bright lights illuminating the neighborhood half the evening. Now there would be a black-and-white stationed outside her house until… Well, until something changed, Kristen supposed. Until her humble servant was no longer watching her. Until she was no longer the target of rage-filled gangs or ravenous reporters. Until she was no longer a victim waiting to happen. She eyed the big sign in the gun shop window and made a decision.

„No, I’m coming.“

Reagan helped her down from the high seat and she held her breath until she was solidly on her own two feet. Her knee throbbed like hell, but she’d be damned before she let it show in case any cameras were lurking. „Any cameras?“ she murmured and Reagan looked up and down the street.

„No, I think everybody with a camera is at Spinnelli’s press conference.“ Reagan grimaced. „Better him than us. Especially now that our boy has widened his repertoire.“

„I’ve gotten fifteen calls on my cell from defense attorneys since Richardson broke the story on Skinner.“ Kristen took a test step and winced. „Everybody is scared to leave their houses.“ And if she felt a certain satisfaction in visualizing them all hiding in their homes, quaking in their boots, Kristen thought she was entitled. She’d never been able to understand the mentality of defense attorneys. They knew that most of their clients were guilty as hell, yet defended them as if the scum-suckers had been the victims themselves.

Reagan just grunted. „Serves the bastards right. Maybe it’ll be good for them, being scared for a day or two. We should have taken Mia’s car. Climbing up and down all day can’t be good for your knee.“

She chanced a glance up at him, but couldn’t see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses. It was better that way, she thought, swallowing the pang of regret. She was becoming too accustomed to the caring look in his eyes. „You heard Ruth. I’m not hurt.“

He said nothing, just offered his arm as they followed Mia into the store. „What’s that?“ Kristen asked, eyeing the case Mia carried by its handle. She’d insisted they stop at her apartment before starting their canvass of the gun stores and emerged with the case.

Reagan chuckled. „You’ll see.“

A big man stood behind the glass counter, glaring. „You’re back.“

„So it would seem,“ Mia said dryly. „Is Diana here?“

„No,“ the man snapped.

„Oh, Ernie, for God’s sake.“ An elderly woman appeared from the back, her arm in a sling. „Yes, I’m here, Detectives. What can I do for you today?“ She eyed Mia’s black case cagily, then openly appraised Kristen. „You’ve brought famous company.“

„Yeah, yeah, she’s a regular celebrity.“ Mia leaned on the counter. „It’s like this, Diana. We found a bullet in the course of our investigation.“ She brought out a bag and set it on the glass counter. „It’s not beautiful, but right now it’s all we have. What can you tell us about it?“

The old lady pursed her lips, sending wrinkles from the corners of her mouth like rays of the sun. She fidgeted with the bag holding the bullet. „So what’s in it for me?“

Mia tapped the black case she’d brought. „Be a good girl, and we shall see.“

„What is it?“ Kristen whispered to Reagan, but he shook his head and shushed her.

Diana’s eyes had warmed considerably. „Long time since I’ve been called a girl.“

„Consider it part of the service,“ Mia said. „We think this bullet is hand-cast.“

Diana bent her mouth in a speculative frown. „It is. But it’s too mangled to get any specifics on the mold that made it.“ She picked up the bullet and narrowed her eyes. „It has a maker’s mark.“

„I know. My ballistics guy told me that much. He didn’t recognize it. Do you?“

She brought out a magnifying glass and examined the bullet with precision. „No, it’s too mangled, like I said. Not many people make their own bullets anymore.“

„Any of your customers?“ Mia asked. „Any on the list of marksmen you gave us?“

The old woman thought. „There are a handful, but none have a mark.“ She eyed the black case. „So what’s inside, Detective Mitchell?“

Mia popped the latches. „My dad’s gun.“ And she smiled when Diana’s eyes grew wide and reverent. „It’s a real treasure.“ Then she snapped the case closed when Diana reached out to touch it. „Maybe later.“

Diana lifted a brow. „Quid pro quo, huh?“

„Depends. Me and my partner need information on the mark on this bullet. If I can get a decent sketch, can you post it on your bulletin board?“

Diana conceded with a dignified nod. „I’m the cooperative sort, Detective Mitchell. In fact, I’ll do you one better. I’ll ask all my most enthusiastic sharpshooting friends to come in for a little get-together, and we’ll make you a list of all the marks we recall.“

Kristen heard Reagan’s laugh rumble softly above her ear. „She’s good, isn’t she?“ he asked and Kristen leaned her head back to look up at his profile. His eyes were focused on Mia, his mouth bent in a smile that held pride as well as amusement. He wasn’t a man to be threatened by the skill of another, even when the other was a woman, and that alone set him apart from most of the men she knew.

„Yes. Yes, she is. Where are we going next?“

„Mia and I are going to King High School. We got a picture off the surveillance video of the kid who delivered that box to your house and we want to pass it around. There’ll be kids on the basketball court across from the school all day since it’s Saturday.“

„If you’re thirty minutes late, is that a problem?“

He looked down at her with a puzzled frown. „I guess not. Why?“

Kristen turned to the glass counter. „Because I’m going to buy a gun.“

Saturday, February 21,

5:00 p.m.

„Can I talk to you for a minute, Jacob?“

Jacob Conti looked up to find Elaine standing in the doorway of his office, wringing her hands. „What is it, Elaine?“ But he knew.

She approached in that timid way of hers. She’d made him think of a delicate bird when he’d first met her, twenty-five years ago now. She still did. „I’ve been trying to reach Angelo all day. I’m starting to get very worried. He was supposed to meet his friends at the club for racquetball and he never showed up. Can you send Drake to search for him?“

Conti nodded. „Certainly, dear. Try not to worry.“

She came closer and kissed his cheek. „I’ll try. Thank you, Jacob.“

He let her leave without telling her that he already had Drake Edwards and three others searching for Angelo. So far, they’d turned up nothing.

A sick feeling settled in his stomach. Angelo, you had to go and open your big mouth. As if you weren’t a target in the first place, you had to go on television, for God’s sake.

If anything happened to his son… Someone would pay.