“Lucky for Faith the neighbor’s a good witness.”

Will started to stick his hands in his pockets, too late remembering he was still in his running shorts.

Leo chuckled. “I like these new uniforms. You supposed to be the cop in the Village People?”

Will crossed his arms over his chest.

“Los Texicanos,” Leo said. “The guy in the backyard. He’s affiliated, got tats all over his chest and arms.”

“What about the other two?”

“Asian. Both of ’em. No idea if they’re ganged up. Don’t look like it. Don’t dress like it. Bodies are clean—no tats.” Leo took his time lighting another cigarette. He blew out a steady stream of smoke before continuing. “Scott Shepherd over there—” He nodded toward a beefy-looking young man in tactical gear. “Says he had his team suited up outside the house waiting for backup. They heard a gun go off. It’s a possible hostage situation, right? One officer inside, two if you count Evelyn. Imminent danger. So, they breech the door.” Leo took another hit off his cigarette. “Scott sees Faith standing there in the hall, feet spread, Glock out in front of her. She sees Scott, doesn’t say a word, just takes off into the bedroom. They go in after her and find a dead guy laid out on the carpet.” Leo touched his finger to his forehead. “She nailed him right between the eyes.”

“Must’ve had a good reason.”

“Wish I knew that reason. He didn’t have a gun in his hand.”

“The other guy did. The one who ran into the backyard and shot at the kids.”

“You’re right. He did.”

“Fingerprints?”

“We’re working on it.”

Will would’ve bet his house that they would find two sets of prints—one from the Asian and one from the Mexican. “Where’d you find the third guy?”

“Laundry room. Bullet to the head. Nasty shot, took off half his skull. We dug a thirty-eight out of the wall.”

Faith’s Glock was a .40-caliber. “Does the S&W take a thirty-eight?”

“Yep.” Leo pushed away from the car. “Nothing on the mother yet. We got teams out looking for her. She ran the drug squad, but I think you already know that, Ratatouille.”

Will forced his jaw not to clench. About the only thing Leo was really good at was pushing buttons. This was the reason for the nasty stares and hostile stances from Will’s brothers in blue. Every cop out here knew that Will Trent was the reason Evelyn Mitchell had been forced into retirement. One of the most loathsome jobs he had at the GBI was investigating corrupt cops. Four years ago, he’d made a solid case against Evelyn’s narcotics squad. Six detectives had gone to prison for skimming money off drug busts and taking cash to look the other way, but Captain Mitchell had walked away scot-free, her pension and most of her good reputation intact.

Leo said, “Tell the kid I can give her ten more minutes, tops, but then she’s gotta get her shit together and start talking to me.” He leaned in closer. “I heard the dispatch call. She was told to stay outta the house. She needs to be real clear on why she went in anyway.”

Leo started to leave, but Will asked him, “How did she sound?”

He turned around.

“The phone call to dispatch. How did she sound?”

Unsurprisingly, Leo hadn’t considered the question. He did now, and quickly started nodding his head. “Maybe a little scared, but clearheaded. Calm. In control.”

Will nodded, too. “That sounds exactly like Faith.”

Leo flashed a grin, but Will couldn’t tell if he was relieved or just playing his usual role of smartass. “I meant that about the shorts, man.” Leo slapped him on the arm. “You should try to get those pretty legs of yours on TV.”

Leo waved to the reporters standing at the yellow tape line. They pressed forward as one, thinking he was going to give them a statement. There was a collective groan as he walked away. The cops holding the line pushed them back just because they could. Will knew they couldn’t care less about crowd control. Their eyes kept going to the command center like they expected an announcement from on high. The cops were just as eager as the reporters to find out what had happened. Maybe more so.

Captain Evelyn Mitchell had served with the Atlanta force for thirty-nine years. She had come up the hard way, clawing her way out of the secretarial pool, advancing to meter reader, then traffic cop, and finally being given a twenty-two and a badge that wasn’t made of plastic. She was part of a group known for being first: first women driving solo, first women detectives. Evelyn was the first female lieutenant on the Atlanta force, then the first female captain. No matter the reasons for her retirement, she had more medals and commendations than all of the cops on scene combined.

Will had learned a long time ago that police officers were blindly loyal. He’d also learned that there was a distinct pecking order to that loyalty. It was like a pyramid, with every cop in the world at the bottom and your partner at the top. Faith had been with the Atlanta Police Department since she joined up, but she’d moved to the GBI two years ago, partnering with Will, who wasn’t exactly the most popular guy in class. Leo might still be halfway on Faith’s side, but as far as the general members of the APD were concerned, she had lost her spot on their pyramid. Especially since the first cop on scene, an eager young rookie, had been rushed into emergency surgery after Faith elbowed his testicles up into his brain stem.

Will saw a flash of yellow as the tape line was lifted. Sara had put up her hair, pinning it tightly behind her head. The linen dress she was wearing looked worse for wear. She had a folded pair of jeans under her arm. At first Will thought she looked confused, but the closer she got, the more he thought she looked annoyed, maybe even angry. Her eyes were red rimmed. Her cheeks were flushed.

She handed him the jeans. “Why do you need me here?”

He put his hand at her elbow and led her away from the reporters. “It’s Faith.”

She crossed her arms, keeping some distance between them. “If she needs medical attention, you should take her to the hospital.”

“We can’t do that.” Will tried not to focus on the coldness in her voice. “She’s at the neighbor’s house. We don’t have much time.”

“I heard what happened on the radio.”

“We think there’s a drug connection. Keep that to yourself.” Will stopped walking. He waited for her to look at him. “Faith’s not acting right. She’s confused, not making sense. They want to talk to her, but—” He didn’t know what to say. Amanda had told Will to make the call to Sara. She knew the woman had been married to a cop, and assumed that her allegiance hadn’t died with the man. “This could be really bad for Faith. She killed two men. Her mother’s been kidnapped. They’re going to be eyeballing her for a lot of reasons.”

“Did she overreact?”

“There was a hostage situation. The kids next door were in the line of fire.” Will skated over the missing details. “She shot one guy in the head and one in the back.”

“Are the children okay?”

“Yes, but—”

The back doors of the command center banged opened. Chief Mike Geary, the zone commander for Ansley and Sherwood Forest, jumped down from the steps. He was in full uniform, a scratchy, dark blue polyester that was too tight across the pouch of his stomach. He blinked up at the sun, a deep line creasing his well-tanned forehead. Like most of the old guard, he kept his gray hair clipped in a militarystyle crew cut. Geary put on his hat and turned back around to hold out his hand to Amanda. Something stopped him just shy of touching her, though, and he dropped his hand before she could take it.