Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Suspense,
Thrillers,
Mystery & Detective,
Suspense fiction,
Espionage,
Mystery Fiction,
Murder,
Government investigators,
Investigation,
Murder - Investigation,
Bishop; Noah (Fictitious character)
drew his brows together as he continued to scan the mountain slopes facing them. “Maybe. Depending on his position, we could have been at least partially visible even when we were on the ground. Or maybe he couldn’t see you about to get up, and that was just a final shot aimed where we were a few minutes ago, intended to keep us pinned down here and give him more time to get out of the area. Either way is possible. We should be able to determine a rough trajectory using the bullet that struck that tree, and the first one if we can find it.”
“And if the trajectory confirms what you suspect?” she asked, knowing he had a point to make.
“Then the shooter was on the other side of the valley.”
Hollis looked, then frowned as she slowly holstered her gun. “I’m not all that good at estimating distance, but… that’s not close.”
“No. But for a trained sharpshooter with a good scope, not an impossible distance.”
“You’re thinking he missed on purpose?”
“I’m thinking with the sort of gun and scope I suspect he’s using, he was more likely to hit what he was aiming at than to miss with the only two shots he fired.”
“He might have missed with the first shot only because you were quicker. Have I said thank you, by the way?”
“You’re welcome.” But DeMarco was staring toward the other side of the valley, his eyes narrowed again. “Why draw attention to his presence? Dumb idea. We wouldn’t suspect he was there otherwise. He could have watched every move we made here.”
“Why would he want to?”
“That’s the question. Possible answers: Because he wants to see us in action. Because he wants to observe our reaction to this victim, this dump site. Because we’ve been here only a couple of hours, new players he wants to get to know. Or… because he likes to watch. Likes to see how people—law enforcement or otherwise—react to what he’s left for us.”
“But we’ve agreed this body wasn’t meant to be found.”
DeMarco nodded. “So … he wouldn’t expect to see us here. Any of us. Anyone, for that matter. He had every reason to expect no one would be at this location.”
“Which means neither of us was a target?”
“Not a target he would have expected or planned for. A target of opportunity maybe. We were here, one or both of us are on his hit list, so he took his shot. But if he didn’t expect anyone to find this victim, what’s he doing on the other side of the valley with a high-powered rifle? And why was it more important to him to shoot at one or both of us, giving away his presence, rather than simply waiting and watching in order to gather intel?”
Hollis wasn’t sure what she would have replied to that, so it was a good thing that Quentin and Diana arrived then. Both had guns drawn and were visibly alert and wary.
“We heard the shots,” Quentin said.
DeMarco explained, with a minimum of words, what had happened.
Hollis silently poked one finger through the bullet hole in her jacket.
Characteristically, Quentin’s comment to her was somewhat flippant. “You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”
“Apparently not.”
Diana was scanning the mountain slopes ringing the valley. “Jesus, it’s a wilderness. Whoever fired those shots could be anywhere. Even if we knew exactly where he was, it’d take us forever to get to that spot.” She paused, then added, “And aren’t we awfully exposed standing here?”
“The shooter’s done for now,” DeMarco said, holstering his weapon.
Diana eyed him. “You read his mind across a valley?”
“No. But he’s done. For now.”
Noting that Quentin was also holstering his gun, Diana followed suit. I’m learning to trust all of them. Or maybe I just trust Quentin . It wasn’t an easy thing for her, trust. It still caught her by surprise when she became aware of feeling it.
Pushing that aside, Diana forced herself to look down once again at the remains of the second victim. Poor thing.