Elsewhere

by Dean Koontz

Chief Phil Esterhaus said, “I’m not even to the beach yet to start my run, I get a call about Falkirk. He was shot five times.” “Dead?” “No. He was wearing Kevlar. Four rounds were stopped, but one took him in the left thigh. He’s in the hospital, no doubt making the entire staff wish they’d never pursued a career in medicine. You know who shot him?” “Not me.” “I didn’t think you. If I thought you, the first thing I’d have said is, I’ll pay for dinner, after all.” “So who shot him?” “Two hulks in his goon squad were stationed across the street from where it happened. They’re raising hell with my people, as if they never told us to back off. They want arrests made yesterday. Anyway, it was dark, but they had night-vision gear, so they saw a little. They say it was this traitor Harkenbach and some woman. The perps got away, which makes no sense to me, with Falkirk’s crew of numbnuts right there and armed to the teeth.” “Who do they want you to arrest?” “Well, Harkenbach and the woman—”

Five shots but only one wound...