I did the calculations, looking from where the bullet had entered the house then back to the neighborhood, and decided that the shooter must have been on the street where it turned and headed up the block.
At first, I thought the shooting might have been a drive-by. But as I headed out onto the sidewalk, I began to wonder if the killer was stalking Karma and had hit her agent by mistake. This was Hollywood and the singer was one of the most famous performers in the world. I cringed at the thought of the press getting ahold of the story. Mom’s neighborhood and the city would become a media and paparazzi feeding frenzy.
I turned, yanking on Bernie’s leash, as I headed up the sidewalk. My big dog growled and I looked up in time to see something or someone in the shadows hiding behind one of the cars parked at the curb up the street.
“Police,” I yelled. “Walk toward me now or I release the dog.” I fingered my gun. “Hands in the air.”
Silence.
I took a step forward and heard the shuffling sound of someone moving. A car door opened. I reached down to release Bernie, but something in the road caught my eye.
I glanced up just in time to see the car’s headlights come on and it jerk away from the curb. An engine roared to life as the car accelerated in our direction. I dove and rolled away from the speeding car, pulling Bernie with me as it rumbled past us.
I raised my Glock, drawing a bead on the speeding car. I was about to fire when I decided it was too late. There were some apartment buildings beyond the roadway. One errant shot and I’d be up to my ears in hot water with LADP brass again. There was no way I’d risk another go-around with the boys in the Tower, as my partner, Charlie Winkler, referred to the LAPD administrators.
I was headed back to my mother’s house, hearing the sirens coming up the street, when I stopped. I pushed my brown hair out of my eyes and searched the road where I’d stood a moment earlier. Then I saw it.
At first I thought it was some kind of large playing card. But when I lifted it up by the edge, I saw the image. It was one of those fortune-telling cards that I’d seen psychics use. In fact, I thought I’d seen a similar card in my mother’s house and wondered if it belonged to her.
I turned the card over. There was an image of a skeleton riding a horse, carrying some kind of flag. Then I saw the handwritten words at the bottom of the card.
The silence is broken.
About the author
MZ Kelly spent over thirty years in the field of law enforcement. His experience includes dealing with violent felony offenders, making sentencing recommendations to the courts, supervising a detention program for juvenile offenders, running a jail, and developing innovative programs to keep our streets safe. His law enforcement experience was in Southern California, not too far from the famous Sunset Strip, and includes run-ins with some of America’s craziest criminals, not to mention a few wannabe actors, and even an Oscar award winner!
Copyright © 2014 by MZ Kelly
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Interior format by The Killion Group
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Contests/Giveaways
Sneak Peek
About the Author