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turned and fired the gun at Thomas. He felt the impact and tumbled back.  
    Thomas lay on the floor, panting, still refusing to believe this was really happening. He looked up at the mask. His vision blurred a few times but he managed to stay awake. "What do you want? Why are you doing this?"  
    "I told you. You became a thorn in my side. You needed to be put down."  
    "So you stole my identity?"  
    "For starters." There was a pause. "Now I am here to steal your life."  
    Thomas wasn't sure if he'd received a fatal shot. It hurt worse in his left shoulder. It burned. And it wasn't hard to breathe. But if Phantom shot him again like this—it could be a fatal blow.  
    Movement was hard but he had to put it behind him to move. He had seconds to act, and luckily a brain that loved puzzles. He'd seen the officer's gun still in its holster. The Phantom hasn't disarmed him. And it was there…  
    Just a foot away through the bars.  
    He had to focus on a goal and the face of Detective Inzmann came back to him. He wanted to see her again, and he wanted more than anything, to prove to her that he wasn't the criminal she believed him to be.  
    With a deep breath, Thomas rolled to his right and shoved his left hand through the bars just as the Phantom fired again. But Thomas wasn't there anymore and the bullet hit the concrete floor and took a piece of it with it.  
    His hand wrapped around the grip of the gun and he pulled it out. The safety was on! And it wasn't a left handed gun!  
    Thomas had to move again to duck out of the way but couldn't get the gun through the bars. The Phantom fired again. The shot went past his head.  
    He put his hand through the bar and that's when the pain crippled him. He yelled out again as he switched the gun to his right hand, thumbed the safety off and fired at the Phantom. A few of the shots went wild, but one of them struck the target. The voice box amplified the fucker's cry as he went down.  
    Thomas smiled to himself. The sounds of the officer's gun would bring more cops, and this mother would be caught.  
    Pounding in the outer door told him the Phantom had locked it when he'd led his captive officer in. Thomas maneuvered the gun into the cell with him and aimed it at the Phantom as the bastard staggered to his feet. The mask was gone, tossed off on the floor, but the face still wasn't visible.  
    Without a word the Phantom half-stumbled around the downed officer and disappeared into lockup. Thomas wasn't sure if there was another way out that way, but he was sure the Phantom had no intention of being caught. So following him was a good plan.  
    He put the safety back on, slipped the gun into his back pocket, and then reached through the bars to the officer's belt. He yelped when the cop grabbed his hand. The grip wasn't strong, but it scared the crap out of him.  
    Thomas looked into the guy's eyes. The cop took in a deep breath. "Catch that…sonofbitch…" and then he relaxed back.  
    "Oh damn…don't be dead." Thomas found the key and unlocked the cell. He tossed it into the cell and grabbed the officer's spare magazine. When he checked to make sure the man had a pulse. The adrenaline fueling his escape lessoned and he felt a wave of nausea and dizziness nearly take him out.  
    He stood and looked down at himself. He'd been hit in the right shoulder. He couldn't tell if the bullet went through or not, but he was losing blood, and that was bad. He couldn't afford to go into shock before he got out of there and cleared his name.  
    Thomas ignored the Phantom's gun—that gun was what shot him and the officer. He wasn't about to touch it. Instead he started off down the lockup in the direction the Phantom had taken.  

CHAPTER NINE

    Cecelia sat in her car, watching the weather with a critical eye. The overcast cloud cover never burned off and by noon, and now it looked thicker than ever. It was white gray.  
    And it cold. She checked the thermometer on the car. It