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“She’s Mexican,” Mr. Simmons said with obvious disdain. “Her name’s Nina something. She was all mixed up with one of them thirteen gangbangers. And our boy was doing a lot more than helping her get a job. He was helping her hide.”

“We don’t know any such thing for sure,” his wife argued. “Whatever she was involved in, DeShawn would not have gotten mixed up in that gang mess. He said she was hiding. He didn’t say he was helping her hide.”

That burst of adrenaline became a full-fledged flood. “Mr. Simmons, are you referring to
MS-13
?”

“That’s it! DeShawn said her ex-boyfriend—or whatever he was—was some kind of leader of that trash. He was scared they might hurt her if they found out where she was hiding.”

On a scale of one to ten, with ten being bad, this was a twelve. “Do you recall her last name?”

Mr. and Mrs. Simmons exchanged a look. Both shook their heads.

“Where was she hiding when DeShawn was helping her?”

“In that empty house down the block on the corner. DeShawn took her a blanket and a pillow and food. He was worried about her safety but she refused to go to the police. Then she just disappeared. Poof!” He made an abrupt gesture with his hands. “Next thing we knew DeShawn was gone, too.” His voice trembled on the last. “They’ve done something bad to our boy. I know it.”

“We don’t know that,” Mrs. Simmons argued again. “DeShawn was just being nice. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jess knew exactly the house Mr. Simmons meant. The one with all the gang tags. She also understood that Mrs. Simmons was in deep denial. If this young man had crossed someone in the MS-13 in any capacity, his grandfather was correct. They would do or had done something bad to him. “When did Nina go missing?”

“On Wednesday,” Helen answered as she dabbed at her eyes. “DeShawn was very upset that she didn’t answer the door when it was time to go to work Wednesday afternoon. He went inside that old house and she was gone. I tried to tell him that she probably just took off. With girls like that you can’t never tell.”

Jess made a note to check the house. “Did he notice signs of a struggle?”

Helen shook her head. “She was just gone and he was worried sick. Two days later he was gone, too.”

“Did you tell this to the police when you filed the missing persons report?”

Helen exchanged another look with her husband. “I didn’t. I was afraid you wouldn’t look for him if you knew about that part. I knew the police would try to say he was involved with that mess. But I can promise you right now he didn’t run off to join no gang, not for that girl or anything else. They took him. That’s all there is to it.”

Jess dug for her pad and pencil. “I need as much information about the girl as you can give me.” She turned to a new page in her notepad. “Don’t leave anything out,” she warned. “I can’t help you or your grandson unless I know
everything
.”

• • •

8:45 p.m.

Jess promised Mr. and Mrs. Simmons she would find their grandson. The department’s sketch artist was scheduled to meet with the Simmonses tomorrow morning to work on a rendering of this unidentified person of interest called Nina. Jess suspected she was the key to DeShawn’s troubles.

Harper exited the premises first and scanned the street in both directions as they walked toward his SUV.

The sun had gone down, leaving that dusky-not-quite-dark time of the evening when folks ushered their kids inside and streetlights began to flicker to life. As she walked along the driveway the pit bull made another dive that snapped his chain tight.

“Stop wasting the effort,” she told him. “You won’t be able to break that log chain.”

She hoped Harper was far enough away that he’d missed her giving advice to the dog. She needed the distraction. Anything to get her mind off the last hour. This was an undeniably bad situation. The chances that DeShawn Simmons was alive were minimal, and that was the good news.

She didn’t want to think about the bad news.

Not much had changed in this neighborhood at all since that year she’d spent here as a kid. She wondered if her aunt was still alive and living around here someplace.

The woman had chosen her drugs and her johns over Jess and her sister. She surely couldn’t have expected them to keep in touch. The truth was, Jess hadn’t thought of her in decades. Why start now?

Jess cut across the lawn and was halfway to Harper’s SUV when she heard a sound that made her blood go cold.

Tha-thwack
.

An engine roared to life. A vehicle rocketed from between two parked cars. Up the block on her right.

Harper lunged toward her. They hit the ground, his body shielding hers before the first bullets exploded from at least one pump shotgun and numerous other automatic weapons.

They were in the open.

No cover.

There was nothing they could do except ride it out.

The squeal of tires and growl of the engine diminished in the distance before the echo of the final shots faded.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

Before she could make a move to get up, Harper was on his feet and reaching for her. “You okay, ma’am?”

Jess got to her knees and retrieved her bag. Thankfully the contents hadn’t flown in a dozen directions. “Pretty damned good, considering.” She accepted his hand and levered to her feet, then wheeled around to see if the Simmonses’ house had suffered any damage that might have endangered the people inside.

“Get backup over here,” she said to Harper as she fished out her Glock. “I’m going in to check on Mr. and Mrs. Simmons.”

Before the order was fully out of her mouth, the front door burst open and the elderly couple bounded out of the house with far more agility and speed than Jess would have expected.

“Get back in the house,” she shouted. There was no way to know what the shooters would do next. Stay gone, most likely, but there were no guarantees.

The couple stared at her a moment, then at the gun in her right hand, before obeying her command. The shattered security door slammed behind them, safety glass showering the stoop.

Harper had dispatch on the horn and was relaying the situation. Jess surveyed the neighborhood. Folks on both sides of the street had started to wander out into their yards.

She motioned with her free hand and shouted, “Birmingham PD! Go back in your homes until we give the all clear.”

By the time Harper closed his phone, sirens were wailing in the distance and the curiosity seekers were going back inside.

For the first time since the initial pump of that shotgun, Jess hauled in a decent breath. Her gaze stalled on Harper and his slight limp. The knees of his khaki trousers were stained by the dive into the grass, but it was the darker stain on his left thigh just above his knee that worried her, made her own knees go weak.

“You’re hit.” She moved toward him to get a closer look.

“It’s just a flesh wound.” He showed her where the bullet had entered and exited his trouser leg. “I’ll live.”

“Is EMS on the way, too?”

He nodded. “Captain Allen as well. I figured GTF needed in on this.”

“You figured right, Sergeant,” Jess acknowledged. Damn it all to hell. “Let’s get you inside and off that leg.”

“Backup is almost here, ma’am. I should wait for their arrival. But it would be best if you waited inside.”

Like hell. Jess tightened her grip on her Glock. “I think I’ll take my chances with you, Sergeant.”

10:00 p.m.

“How long you think we’ll be safe here?”

DeShawn Simmons paced the worn carpet. This motel was too close to his neighborhood. He didn’t care that it was a dump, but wouldn’t the trouble they were trying to escape be turning this side of town upside down? And what about DeShawn’s grandparents? This was too close to them. He didn’t want them pulled into this whacked-out situation.

This was too close. Too close, and still he couldn’t let them know he was here. They would be worried. His grandfather didn’t need this kind of stress.

Nina ignored him as if he hadn’t said a word. She just kept staring out the dingy motel window. She’d acted funny ever since they made the decision to leave their lives and Birmingham behind.

The whole thing had been her idea. He hadn’t wanted to go. His grandparents needed him. She just kept saying they were doing okay and he had to grow up and be a man.

That was what he was trying to do now and she wasn’t listening. They hadn’t run anywhere. What was she waiting for?

How was he supposed to protect her from those low-life gangbangers if she wouldn’t listen?

“Didn’t you hear me?” DeShawn strode to the window and glared down at her. She made him so angry. He wanted to shake her. But she’d already suffered enough. The bruises from her last beating were only now fading.

She looked up at him and his chest ached. Man, he loved her so much. He wished he could take back the words. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was scared to death and his grandparents would be freaking out by now.

“Nina, you—”

“Baby.” She took his hands in hers and smiled, her big brown eyes hopeful. “You have to trust me. This is the only way. If he finds us, we’re dead.” She pulled away from him, hugged her arms around herself. “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’ll never be rid of him. I should’ve stayed and let him kill me. Then it would be over.”

DeShawn reached for her, pulled her against him. It was the only time he felt right, with her next to him. “Don’t say that, baby girl. We’ll figure this out.” He stroked her long silky hair. “I just wish I could let my grandparents know I’m okay. They worry about me.”

She hugged him hard, the sound of her voice vibrating against his chest as she spoke. “If you told them anything and he found out, he would do terrible things to them.” Her gaze moved up to DeShawn’s once more. “Believe me, I’ve seen what he can do when he wants to hurt someone.”

“We can’t hide like this forever.” He was supposed to start Jeff State next month. His grandparents were depending on him. As much as he loved Nina, he didn’t want to let them down. His grandmother would tell him that this was a fine time to think about that. He’d made his bed hard and now he would have to lie in it.

Nina grabbed his hands and pulled him down to the floor. “Let’s pray, Shawney. Our heavenly Father will help us make the right decisions.” She reached up and stroked his cheek. “He’s gotten us this far and we’re still alive.”

DeShawn closed his eyes and tried to focus on her words. As hard as he tried to pay attention, in his mind, where she wouldn’t hear, he said a prayer of his own.

Dear Father, please keep my grandparents safe. Watch after them if I don’t make it through this
.

He opened his eyes and watched as Nina fervently begged for God’s guidance and protection. She wanted so bad to be away from the gang life. DeShawn wanted just as bad to help her. To keep her safe for the rest of her life.

And, Father,
he prayed,
forgive me for loving this girl so much that I had to keep secrets from my grandparents. Help us, Father, we’re in bad trouble.

Rubber screamed against the cracked concrete outside their room. The screeching echoed right through the paper-thin walls.

Nina’s head jerked up, her eyes wide with fear.

DeShawn’s heart rammed against his rib cage. “Get under the bed,” he told her. “I’ll run. While they’re chasing me you can get away.” His voice shook with his own fear. He had to be strong. Had to be brave.

She held on tight to his hands and shook her head. “No. If we die, we’ll die together.”

Howard Johnson Inn, 11:50 p.m.

The hot water relaxed her muscles and seeped deep into her bones. Jess exhaled a chestful of tension and eased lower into the water. It might not be a jetted tub or even one with bubbles, but filled with hot, steamy water this old motel tub did the trick. And as long as she kept her eyes closed she could imagine that she was surrounded by sleek travertine and glistening fixtures. The fragrance of vanilla bean drifted from the candle she’d picked up at Walmart and parked on the toilet tank.

Cracking one eye open she reached for the plastic cup of wine perched on the toilet lid. The sweet white pleasure was room temperature, but after three generous cups she was well on her way to not caring. The flickering flame of the candle gave the dark, cramped room a hint of ambiance.

She cleared her mind of work—especially those damned shoes Darcy Chandler should have been wearing as she took that fatal plunge. Not her case. Finding DeShawn Simmons and analyzing the Druid Hills gang problem was the only case on her agenda. Captain Ted Allen from the Gang Task Force had provided an on-the-spot and comprehensive briefing into his investigation of the gang activities in Birmingham. Based on what Harper had told her, Allen had done an outstanding job, but the problem was out of control. He needed help. He needed SPU.

And DeShawn Simmons needed to be found. Allen couldn’t connect Simmons with any gang members or activities on his radar. Ordinarily that might prove fortunate, but since Jess was better than ninety percent certain his disappearance was gang related, the lack of available information was rather unfortunate. Jess told Allen as much. If he monitored this territory as thoroughly as he claimed, why wasn’t he aware of Simmons and some gang leader’s ex-girlfriend named Nina? Allen had no answer for her.

After the drive-by situation was wrapped up at the Simmons home, Jess had dropped by the ER to ensure that Harper was patched up and had a way home since she was driving his SUV—which, incredibly, had survived with less damage than if he’d driven through an unexpected hailstorm. She’d requested a security detail for the Simmons home for the next couple of days. Though she suspected the intent of the shooters had been to send a message to the cops, if the intent had been to show the cops who was boss by taking one or more out, then tonight’s shooters were scandalously bad shots. With her and Harper out in the open like that, even a half-assed shot should have been able to do better than grazing a thigh.