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Deep Sleep (Devin Gray #1)(70)

Author:Steven Konkoly

“I think I have police units approaching the town house from Foster Avenue. Nothing off Fait Avenue yet,” said Hoffman. “Almost at the turn.”

“Confirming the units turning off Foster,” said Graves. “Fait is still clear.”

He glanced in the side mirror, confirming that the police units approaching from the west on Fait Avenue had not reached a point where they could see him. He had a few more seconds at most before they raced into sight. No time for stop signs. His four-door sedan skidded into the intersection ahead of him, tires screeching the entire time—as he cut directly in front of a minivan. The woman honked her horn, and kept it blaring as he drove away.

“I’m clear,” said Hoffman. “But I nearly hit a minivan when I was turning off Glover. Fifty-fifty she calls nine-one-one, especially given all the police activity she’s about to encounter. That and the fact that I’m still wearing a ski mask.”

“You’re kidding, right?” asked Melendez.

The masks were meant to prevent one of the neighbors from getting lucky with their smartphone camera. Same with the opaque license plate covers, which they’d have to remove sooner than later.

“Yeah. But I’m not kidding about the minivan. I think she’s still laying on the horn,” said Hoffman.

“This is Rich. Even if she calls nine-one-one, we’ll be long gone before they piece any of this together. Good job, everyone. Let’s run Hoffman, Miralles, and Melendez directly to Gray’s apartment. The police will get makes and models from the neighbors, or the minivan lady. We don’t need you reentering the city later tonight after a long SDR. The chances of getting pulled over are too high. The rest of us will—”

“Rich. This is Graves. Are we sure that was the only Russian team working the town house? A shitload of push-to-talk satellite traffic just lit up my screen. We’re trying to pinpoint, but all I can give you is a general direction at the moment.”

“Where?” asked Farrington.

“Somewhere east of our current location on Linwood Avenue. A few blocks away, I’d guess, based on signal strength.”

“Where’s Gray and Young?”

“Turning onto Eastern Avenue off Robinson Street,” said Graves. “A few blocks east of here.”

Hoffman hit the accelerator and blew through his second stop sign of the night. Definitely not his last.

CHAPTER 31

Devin Gray turned his mother’s car onto Eastern Avenue, which ran parallel to the southern edge of Patterson Park for several city blocks. His plan was to take Eastern to Interstate 95 and drive north for a good twenty to thirty minutes, exiting in one of the city’s suburbs, where he’d run a few countersurveillance drills through some of the quiet neighborhoods. Anyone following them would stick out immediately once he got off the interstate.

“How am I supposed to get my Jeep?” asked Marnie.

It was the first thing she’d said since they’d been dropped off at his car. To say that Marnie looked angry would be an understatement. Seething might be a more accurate description.

“I honestly don’t know,” said Devin. “I wasn’t aware that the town house was a setup. I swear.”

“I heard gunshots, Devin,” said Marnie. “Gunshots. My name is on the Airbnb agreement.”

“Tell them you ran out the back door when you heard the gunshots,” said Devin, instantly realizing the many flaws in that plan.

“But I didn’t call nine-one-one or hide in the alley until the police arrived,” said Marnie. “I suppose if we turned around right now and you dropped me off a few blocks over, I could approach the nearest police station and ask a few questions. Maybe try to figure out if anyone reported you and Karl showing up minutes before the gunshots, so I don’t totally get caught in a lie when I say that I ran away in fear. You know, get my alibi straightened out and all that.”

“Marnie. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, now utterly convinced he’d be better off just shutting up.

“True. I could probably just lawyer up and tell the police that it’s none of their business why I rented an Airbnb for twelve people in Baltimore for five hundred dollars a night and that same town house got attacked a few hours later. And that the two guys who showed up a few minutes before it got attacked was just a random coincidence. Spend some time trying to explain you and Karl. All while the Russians, or whoever is really after you, decides to up the ante and stop by my parents’ place. Speaking of which, I need to call them.”

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